


Yesterday Upon The Stair

by ryttu3k



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cross-Generational Friendship, F/F, Fear of Death, Immortality, Loss, M/M, Mental Instability, Mortal and Immortal Relationship, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:45:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 55,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1756617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryttu3k/pseuds/ryttu3k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have ended in Geosenge. But when Lysandre emerges from the rubble and a trainer and her friends learn how they have been... changed, it becomes up to them, Lysandre, and Professor Sycamore to learn how to navigate a world that no longer fits them - and to stop something that should have never happened in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> Follows the Pokemon X canon, where the ultimate weapon causes immortality instead of death. Serena and Calem have had a slight name change - Xandra and Yves - to reflect the X and Y theme better.

**Prologue - Inferno**

When Augustine is a little boy, he reaches for a saucepan of bubbling hot soup and burns his hand on the stove burner.

His mother is there in an instant to dry his tears and to run his reddened fingers under the cold water, and he remembers always what she tells him - _if you play with fire, you are going to get burnt._

 

Rosette is his first best friend, an Espurr with wide, solemn eyes and an otherwise cheerful demeanour. From her, he learns the importance of caring for other creatures, the virtue of patience, and the necessity of asking permission before touching someone's ears.

When he is nine, she evolves, and the Meowstic becomes a confidant for a shy, awkward, clumsy, intellectually brilliant boy with very few other friends in school.

Who wants to play with the nerd, they say, abandoning him to his books even as his teachers shower him with praise. Who wants to play with the boy who can't kick a ball or skate without falling over himself and who honestly and sincerely enjoys talking about evolutionary theory (not that he can, at that point, pronounce it) and the importance of combat in developing Pokemon strength?

Augustine turns insular and withdrawn, burying himself in his books, and finds that he does not mind at all when he's skipped a year and is able to leave those hateful classmates once and for all.

 

When he's thirteen, he meets Diantha, and she becomes his first human best friend (Rosette approves, and that is what cements the friendship). She's beautiful and popular and adored, and he can't understand why she hangs out with a dork like him - but she's also fascinated by Pokemon and their bonds, and now there are two dark heads bent over the books in the library, murmuring theories between themselves.

He discovers boys at about the same time she discovers girls, and that too is another secret they keep between themselves, Diantha catching his eye and grinning if she spots him watching some of the older boys playing sports, Augustine giving her the thumbs up when her hand lingers for a little too long on one of her friend's shoulders.

It doesn't matter if she likes pretending she's a Pokemon or if he can't tie his shoelaces or tell left from right without curving his index fingers and thumbs into right angles - they declare themselves to be platonic soul mates anyway, keepers of each other's secrets.

 

He's skipped ahead once more in collège and has got his baccalauréat by the time he's sixteen, specialising in the sciences and off to one of the best universities in Kalos - École Polytechnique Lumiose, huge and imposing to an undersized and inexperienced sixteen-year-old. It's hard - at his old school, decent but not the world's most spectacular, it was easy to move ahead - now, he has to fight hard to learn, only his thirst for knowing _everything in existence_ keeping him moving toward at times. And still, he nearly fails his first year, the classes too general and the concepts too broad to keep his interest.

Still, all things improve. He finds friends there, friends who are as fascinated by Pokemon as he is, and begins developing something actually resembling a a social life. He's moved through the ranks fast - first, he finds himself with a licencié ès sciences, majoring in biology and eager to learn more - and then he ends up doing his postgraduate thesis on the developing bonds between trainers and Pokemon - and then, before he can actually pause to catch his breath, he's starting his Doctorat and wondering what happened to the rest of his university career, to say nothing of his social life (consisting mostly, at this point, of fortnightly coffee with Diantha in Cafe Soleil - increasingly rare, given that she's started getting some decent-sized acting roles - and a few flings here and there, and one relatively happy handful of months with his first actual boyfriend that ends rather abruptly when aforementioned boyfriend tells him about the _other_ boyfriend he has stashed away in Ingrando, whom he promptly leaves Kalos - and Augustine - to be with).

Once, soon after he starts his Doctorat, he visits Couriway Town and engages in some minor vandalism. Perhaps he shouldn't have put his name on it. Somehow, he can't bring himself to care.

When he's accepted to work directly under the famed Professor Rowan of Sinnoh, he packs up with very few second thoughts, saying goodbye to Diantha with a hug and boarding the plane to take him far, far away.

 

His first reaction to Sinnoh after stepping out of Jubilife Airport is to skid on an icy patch (Sinnoh, he has discovered, occasionally does actually have snow even in October) and to land flat on his backside. Professor Rowan simply chuckles and gives him a hand up, and Augustine, blushing to the tips of his hair, takes it and scrambles to his feet.

At least the rest of the trip is a little safer, and he allows himself to relax as Professor Rowan drives them through route two hundred and two to tiny Sandgem Town. It's a nice little place, and with the bigger city to the north easily accessible, he can see himself living there for the next almost-a-year, working on Professor Rowan's research projects and finishing off his thesis on new kinds of evolution.

Naturally, a very peculiar group in bad astronaut costumes and even worse teal bowl-cut wigs tries to remake the universe while he's there, and the world is saved by a group of kids, including Professor Rowan's young assistant. Augustine leaves Sinnoh later that year with an almost-complete thesis, a fading relationship with a young man from Sunyshore, and a far greater appreciation for the universe-saving abilities of kids bearing Pokedexes.

 

It's May when he returns to Lumiose City, and a Kalosian spring is a welcome balm after a Sinnohan winter. After longer than he's cared to think about it in student accommodation, his return to Kalos means his first actual apartment on the last day of the month, some last-minute, hurried edits and revisions to his thesis, multiple visits to the printers, and, finally, submitting the damn thing.

Well, he says 'damn thing'. It's probably the thing he's most proud of in his life, and Diantha literally shrieks and tackles him when he turns up to Cafe Soleil with an exhausted grin and a declaration that it's done and dusted.

He finds himself with a job almost immediately, working at the École Polytechnique under Professor Blanc as an associate lecturer, taking tutorial groups of nervous first-years. It's interesting, but he finds that research draws him more, and within a year he's a postdoctorate fellow instead, still feeling incredulous every time a journal shows up with a paper with his name on it, still feeling like an overgrown teenager (even at twenty-three!), still feeling like he's missed a few critical steps here.

The smoking he picked up intermittantly during his earlier student days and dropped by the time he made it to Sinnoh comes back with a force, and while Diantha encourages him to pursue actual relationships, all he can really find the energy for is a few short flings that lead absolutely nowhere.

Until three and some years after returning to Kalos and turning in his Ph.D, when, at a university function, his world promptly wobbles on its axis.

He's been roped into talking to a colleague he doesn't particularly like (especially since the man wears far too much aftershave), trying hard not to wrinkle his nose, when he happens to glance across the room and feels his heart almost literally skip a beat. Augustine is tall (having shot up unexpectedly in his late teens, much to everyone's surprise but mostly his own), but this man is taller still, his hair like a flame that demands attention, and he cannot understand, he can't comprehend why this man doesn't have every single pair of eyes on him, why he hasn't become the sun with every other attendee slipping into orbit around him. For just a moment, he can't breathe, and he excuses himself so absently he's not entirely sure he said goodbye at all.

And then Professor Blanc is there and _oh Arceus above so is the gorgeous man_ and he's pretty sure he's about to drop a plate on his foot or trip over someone else's shoelace or start stuttering or just keep staring and never stop, and there's an almost comical screeching noise in his head when Professor Blanc tells him, this is her newest Ph.D candidate, he'll be working with the both of them closely for the next two years, his name is Lysandre.

Augustine is pretty sure he actually does stutter when he introduces himself, and promptly spends the next two and a half minutes mentally telling himself off and consequentially missing half of what Lysandre is saying.

It's not a good look, and he escapes with his face flaming red.

It's either extremely good or extremely bad that he doesn't see Lysandre for another three weeks - he's been doing field research, writing papers, and moaning to Diantha about how spectacularly he messed that one up and how is it that she's able to be a gorgeous young star _and_ have a position in Anistar Gym and he can't even talk to an attractive man without turning into a flailing pile of fail? (He does, at least, feel a little better when he learns she literally went speechless upon meeting famed Kantoan actress Sabrina when over in Unova, and how she would blush every time she approached her mentor in modelling, Elesa, while over there. Beautiful women, it seems, have much the same effect on her as unfairly gorgeous men do on him.)

Still, he manages to steel himself to go back to the university, determined to make a better impression this time - he starts dressing more smartly, cuts his hair into something the hairdresser reassures him is the height of fashion (which probably isn't a bad thing, given that his hair was already long enough enough to pull back in a ponytail), and tries, ever so subtly, to sit up straighter when he takes a seat at his desk in the Pokemon biocommunications office.

When Lysandre does finally show up, somehow managing to look far more put-together than both his position as a grad student and his age (twenty-two, according to his records, and Augustine has to keep reminding himself, he's _twenty-two_ , Augustine is nearing twenty-six, he should be definitely keeping his eyes to himself) would suggest, his first reaction is to pause, stare at Augustine, and bluntly observe that he cut his hair.

Oh, the next two years are definitely going to be awkward.

 

It takes him another month and a half to stop blushing when Lysandre talks to him.

It takes another three for them to start talking more regularly.

By the time eight months have gone by, Lysandre is a friend and Augustine is pretty sure he's on the verge of falling in love.

Lysandre's mind is amazing, passionate and brilliant and blazing as a flame. The gravity that drew Augustine to him the first time is still there, absolutely, and is no less intense for their proximity, but he's allowed within its influence now, is allowed to talk to, joke with, share drinks with, and spend hours with him, imagining how the future should be. Lysandre has so many ideas on how the future should be shaped, ways the world can simply be _better_ , stopping poverty, stopping pollution, stopping inequality, stopping hatred, and he finds himself caught up in Lysandre's perfect world.

It isn't too much of a surprise when he falls for him, when he quietly tells Diantha that he's almost certain that he actually does love him. Never before has he felt his own emotions so acutely, scalding him, intense and hot.

It's just a pity, then, that Lysandre is straight.

Augustine flirts half-heartedly with attractive women while trying hard not to stare bitterly at Lysandre doing the same with considerably more success, often leaving with them and returning looking attractively dishevelled. Once, he finds himself glaring at a girl from across the room for doing nothing more than be the object of Lysandre's affections, and he goes home on those nights with no company other than his own hand and feeling furious at himself for falling so hard and sinking so low.

And yet he just can't bring himself to stay away from Lysandre. If Lysandre asks him to a new restaurant, he will go. If they go out for drinks after a research session at the university, he will go. If Lysandre asked him to jump off Prism Tower, he probably would, he tells Diantha gloomily, and she pats his hand reassuringly and asks him if he ever actually bothered to tell Lysandre how he feels.

(He hasn't, of course. Their meetings are easy, now - how awkward would they be with _that_ looming over their heads?)

They both seem to be in a diminished mood as winter and the end of Lysandre's Doctorat ticks closer, and while the cause of his own discontent is easy enough to identify (is he ever going to see Lysandre again?), he cannot understand why Lysandre would be so gloomy. He is nearly a Ph.D, and in record time - just a year and a half. He already has a job lined up with a small communications company, working on some gadget for travelling trainers to use or something along those lines, and the future is literally at his fingertips - he knows that Lysandre can do anything he sets his mind to.

In a blustery day in November, Lysandre turns in his Ph.D and disappears out of his life.

It's approved. His graduation day in February is noted, and Augustine tries to mustre the enthusiasm to go. Maybe he can be part of the academic procession, just to be there, just to see Lysandre on his proudest day, just for some support -

It comes as some surprise when Lysandre actually does show up at the offices, solemnly telling Augustine that he's inviting him to the graduation ceremony as one of his two guests.

He goes, of course. He can't not go.

It's snowing, that February day, but the celebratory dinner and drinks in a little restaurant in the middle of the city are loud and boistrous. Lysandre is in a bouyant mood and Augustine tries to just go along with it, content to warm his hands on the fire of Lysandre's presence, joining in with the toasts and cheers.

Lysandre is flushed with wine when he finally asks Augustine to come and smoke with him, and they stumble up the stairs into the snowy night. It's hard not to get caught up in his mood as they smoke and stare up at the snowy sky and talk about the future, and then Lysandre wraps an arm around Augustine's waist and demands that he takes a photo of them both.

Chuckling, he snaps a photo with his phone, privately vowing to get it printed off if he can. Lowering his head so he can focus on actually slipping the phone back into his pocket without dropping it in a pile of slush (it's harder than it looks), he doesn't notice when Lysandre wraps the arm around his waist a little more firmly, only lifts his head in surprise when deceptively gentle fingers brush his hair (it's long again, probably too long, he can't bring himself to care) out of his eyes.

He definitely notices when Lysandre leans in and kisses him.

He tastes of rosé, chocolate cheesecake, and cigarettes, and Augustine finds himself marking that particular combination of flavours, even unconsciously, as his new favourite.

But - he's drunk, and Augustine draws back reluctantly, shaking his head once, catching a flash of hurt on Lysandre's face before hastily clarifying what he means - he can't, he won't take advantage of Lysandre when he's been drinking, and if anything is to happen, it will happen when they are both sober and can talk about this properly.

He still walks him home, and he can't protest _too_ much when Lysandre insists on keeping his hand in Augustine's the entire time - or when Lysandre kisses him again, full of promise, at the front door.

When he finally walks home himself, he's pretty sure he's walking on air.

 

It's the phone that wakes him up the next day, and it's Lysandre's voice he hears upon pressing the call button. He's not drunk any more, he says briskly; he's mildly hungover, but otherwise completely in his right mind. He remembers everything from last night, he greatly appreciates Augustine not going any further with Lysandre in his drunken state, and just when Augustine is pretty sure his heart is going to crack into broken shards, he adds that he would very much like to pick up where they left off the night before.

They tentatively make arrangements to meet in three days (the problem with both being busy men means distinctly less time to pursue potential relationships), and literally the next thing that Augustine does is call up Diantha and almost deafen her with quite possibly the least dignified noise he's ever made.

 

When they do finally meet up, it's after work in Augustine's apartment, where he's spent the last half hour attempting to wear a crease into the carpet from pacing and has got up and down more often than he cares to think about to check that he has coffee, that he has wine, that he has liquor, that he has the brand of cigarettes that Lysandre likes best, that the cushions are straight and the base boards are free from dust and he has good music and it's only with conscious effort (and a well-timed text from Diantha telling him to relax - in capital letters and an ungrammatical amount of exclamation marks) that he's able to breathe normally.

Naturally, of course, he manages to bash his shin against the coffee table when he jumps up to open the door.

The corners of Lysandre's lips are twitching, and he's fairly sure that's a bad sign.

But no, things go well - Lysandre seems at ease as they settle down on the sofa (Augustine hopping and limping clumsily, Lysandre with his usual graceful glide), half-turned towards each other, neither particularly sure where to begin. How, precisely, were grown adults meant to do this? He was pretty sure that all of his past relationships had started with making out in some dark corner, possibly ill-advised sex, and then determining the next morning if they wanted to continue doing that for some period of time. It's nothing like... this, nothing like what he wants with Lysandre.

(Although he definitely wouldn't say no to some more making out and probably some sex to follow.)

They do begin slowly, though, working out precisely what they want out of this. Are they physically attracted to each other? (Yes, says Lysandre, very much yes, answers Augustine.) Do they want to act on it? (Yes, on all parts.) Would they be interested in acting on it more than once? (Absolutely yes, mutually.)

And then comes the difficult parts - do they want this to simply be a sexual relationship, based solely on lust? (Not... really, Augustine admits, and Lysandre nods once, briefly terrifying him until he clarifies that he was nodding in agreement with Augustine, not that he was agreeing to just being friends with benefits.) Do they want this to be a proper relationship? (Yes, Augustine whispers, and again, Lysandre nods once.) Do they have feelings for each other that went beyond friendship, beyond sex? (And Augustine nods once and bows his head, not sure he wants to see Lysandre's answer, not sure whether he's infatuated or in love and what the difference is, anyway, and it's not until Lysandre lifts his chin with the tips of his fingers and leans in for an infinitely gentle kiss that he gets his answer.)

They end up retiring to the bedroom, after all.

And then they continue to get to know each other.

 

Augustine is pretty sure his body has turned to jelly and also pretty sure he doesn't mind in the slightest, basking in Lysandre's glorious warmth, the bruise on his shin completely forgotten, and feeling pleasantly tingly. Lysandre's fingers are carding through his hair and his gentle breathing is warm against his skin, the earlier fire cooled to a gentle simmer, and it's going to take rather a lot to actually get him out of bed now.

(It's at this point that Lysandre confides that the reason he remarked on Augustine cutting his hair soon after their first meeting was because he had just spent three weeks fantasising about running his fingers through it. Quietly, Augustine vows to never cut his hair short again.)

And he asks Lysandre, do they keep going like this, together?

And Lysandre answers, yes.

 

It's surprisingly nice, being in a relationship like this. They're not living together, no - but they see each other enough that that doesn't really matter, and it's not uncommon for Augustine to spend the night at Lysandre's place or vice versa. For three very pleasant years, they continue like this.

Augustine continues working at the university, researching and occasionally teaching, developing a reputation as a growing expert on evolution and potential. He's learning about Mega evolution, evolution beyond evolution, and he is determined to crack it - to work out how to trigger it every time, to work out what every ingredient is, to see if anyone can do it or just a few, to work out how, precisely, Mega stones work, to learn what kinds there are.

Lysandre continues working in electronics, to learn new ways to facilitate communication between groups. He's building up quite a following, practically leading his section of the laboratories, and Augustine is sure it's only a matter of time before he either takes it over or leaves and starts his own.

Diantha, who he rarely gets to see these days (she's gym leader at Anistar City Gym now, and is on track to becoming a member of the Elite Four - there just needs to be two more retirements before she can take a place there - and is still one of the brightest stars in Kalos) is an encouraging friend, the cool water to Lysandre's fire, calming where Lysandre is energising, and he finds himself quietly cursing the film industry for this separation. He needs the both of them, and he needs support if he's going to do what he's thinking of doing.

What he's thinking of doing is moving (temporarily) to Shalour City, to the Tower of Mastery, to learn how to use Mega evolution himself.

Lysandre is silent the day he leaves, both knowing that Lumiose City is not so far away, a mere train ride away. And anyway, they had said their proper farewells that night, quiet promises that this is just temporary, that he will be back soon with the power of Mega evolution. He has Garchompite in his bag and the Pokeball for Artemis the Garchomp on his belt, one of the laboratory Pokemon and his favourite of the group, and he's full of confidence as he waves goodbye from the door of the train.

 

He returns early, keeps his head bowed low, and begins to pack to see more of the world and to try and learn what went wrong - to try and work out why he just wasn't good enough.

 

It's a temporary break, he tells Lysandre quietly, just while he gets his head together, while he works out what he wants to do. Long-distance relationships are not easy, and although he promises he will be back, he can't guarantee when that will be.

He can't demand that Lysandre puts his life on hold just for him.

So, for the first time in... ever, he leaves Kalos and travels for the joy of it, for the experience of seeing other regions and other lands. He samples local foods in cafes and restaurants, he mimes hilariously badly with people whose language he doesn't share yet, he delights in the new Pokemon he finds. He still writes back - every week, no matter where he is, a letter to his family, a letter to Diantha, and a letter to Lysandre. There's study in there, too - in Kanto, he finds himself meeting and working with Professor Oak at Professor Rowan's recommendations, and finds himself given not one, not two, but all three Kanto starters.

He names them Hugues, David, and Louis, and tells no one that their nicknames are that from an old Unovan cartoon.

Still, it's Oak who gives him the idea - when he returns to Kalos, with the blessing of Professor Hazel, the current leading Pokemon Professor, he can begin working towards claiming the position for himself. Kalos has its own starters, but the Kantoan ones would work well there too - perhaps, Oak points out, he can distribute those too.

He tries calling Lysandre to let him know, but Lysandre is, it seems, exceptionally busy these days.

It's been a little under two years since he last saw Kalos, and now he returns with his head (slightly) higher. Professor Hazel has accepted his application, and he will be learning how to take over from her when she retires (which, frankly, will be sooner rather than later). With the position will come his own building, essentially - laboratory space of his own (no more having to use the university's!), an office, a rather nice apartment in a very central area.

It's a prestigious position, Professor Hazel tells him frankly when he first arrives at Hazel Laboratories, and he'd better be up for it.

He says yes, and hopes that it's true.

 

Lysandre takes almost a week to catch up with him, and he finds himself... disconcerted at the changes he sees in him. Yes, running Fleur-de-Lis Labs on his own must be exhausting, and trying to perfect holographic technology can't be easy, but still...

But still.

He's not entirely sure if Lysandre is the same person he was when he left, when he sees that his steely resolve is more like ice. But the same passion he recognised when Lysandre was younger is still there, burning like an inferno, and he can't help but draw closer like a moth to a flame.

They pick up where they left off, and any reservations are gone by the time they reach the bedroom - Lysandre is still as attentive and as warm and as blazingly bright as he always has been, and Sycamore sets those reservations deep, deep down as he forces himself to focus on his new job and rekindling their old relationship.

He can't have changed too much.

 

Diantha becomes a member of the Elite Four soon after Augustine gets back, and she finds herself only third in line to become Champion herself (another of her fellow Elites, Wikstrom, has no interest in the role, leaving just the other two before her). Augustine hugs her at her celebratory party, and they find themselves retreating to a corner, giggling like schoolchildren and catching up on everything that has happened in the years that Augustine has been travelling for.

Briefly, he explains the odd disconcertment he felt with Lysandre - she pauses, then points out that Lysandre is somewhat of a force of nature, and probably takes a fair bit of getting used to. He became unaccostmed to him while travelling, she says, it will only take time to reacclimatise.

He certainly hopes so, because while their relationship seems to be functioning as well as any adult relationship should be, Lysandre is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for just about everything else, stressed and easily frustrated.

Something in him is burning away, and it's not going out.

But they can make things bump along smoothly enough if he just pretends hard enough, and they do, and there's nothing _actively_ wrong, there's nothing visible like shouting or arguments and so he can tell himself that Lysandre's occasional rants and passionate fury are just the product of someone who wants to change an injust world, and it's slow, so slow he doesn't realise, and it's not until he finds himself sitting at his own desk in his own new laboratories two years after his return and staring at a framed photograph and feeling more lost than he ever has felt before that he realises that Lysandre has irrevokably changed.

And it's not for the better.

 

There is a framed photo of him and Lysandre, Lysandre's arm around his waist, flushed with wine, snow in their hair and laughing.

He wonders - how far will he go for perfection?

He opens his safety deposit box, hidden in the third drawer down on the left hand side, places the picture inside, and locks it up tight.

 

Things go on, because they do.

He gives out Pokedexes and starters, Kalosian and Kantoan alike - first to just one, and then to two (Sina and Dexio, who end up becoming his left and right hands, deciding on their own to become the Defenders of Kalos), then three, then, in a burst of confidence, five. He acquires more Pokemon - a Ralts named Pierre, one of Diantha's Gardevoir's offspring, and a little Skiddo who had been sleeping outside his labs who he names Lili. He hears his name mentioned in the same breath as Professor Oak, Professor Rowan, Professor Juniper, and can't quite shake the little thrill of pride he feels each time. He still spends time with Lysandre and pretends not to see, pretends that he doesn't fear gravely for him, pretends that his hands are only shaking from nerves and not terror when he gives him the Mega Ring he had got from the Tower of Mastery all those years ago. He urges his students onwards, encourages them to learn about the world, to learn about the people in it, to learn if, just possibly, there is anyone in it that could pose a threat to it.

 

Lysandre starts wearing rather a lot of red.

 

When Augustine was a little boy, he reached for a saucepan of bubbling hot soup and burned his hand on the stove burner.

When Augustine is a grown man, he watches the blurry video footage of Geosenge aflame, shivering and rubbing his arms, struggling to breathe, fighting fury and denial and terror and the sickening sense that he could have prevented this, and remembers - _if you play with fire, you are going to get burnt._


	2. Magnitude

**Part One  
Up and Up**

**Chapter 1 - Magnitude**

Professor Augustine Sycamore could not breathe.

On a crowded boulevard in Lumiose City, lift pass clenched so tightly in his hand that it was drawing blood, he found himself rooted to the spot as he stared up at the view screen that overlooked one of the route entrances. There, Malva's news broadcast was ringing out with an emergency bulletin - and behind her was a grainy photo of what was once a town.

Geosenge Town was now a few shattered houses, a heavily damaged hotel, a Pokemon Centre half buried in rubble, and a very large hole, smack bang in the middle of it.

His breath stolen away, Augustine only moved when a passer-by caught sight of him, catching the sleeve of his lab coat in some urgency. "Professor Sycamore?" he asked shakily, and Augustine turned to glance blankly at the passer-by, "What's happening?"

He shook his head helplessly, gaze still fixed on the screen. Malva was speaking, but he could barely make out her words - her expression, though, said that it certainly wasn't good. They weren't sure about casualties, information was sparse, but they would soon have video footage of those on the ground...

Sina and Dexio. He had sent them there, barely minutes before.

It had been Lysandre - like all things, like everything always had been and always would be, it had been Lysandre. He had walked into Augustine's office with none of his usual confidence, but a barely concealed mania glazing his eyes and causing his hands to tremble, finding Augustine in a near panic after the Holo Caster broadcast, contacting Sina and Dexio, begging them to jump into action. He had done something... rather questionable, he had explained to the Professor, and he had not been able to meet Augustine's eyes as he had said that, had not been able to give the same confession to him in person that he had to everyone who happened to have a Holo Caster switched on at the time. The folder he held contained all the details - he would have preferred that he didn't open it, but if he did, then that was Augustine choice to make.

Augustine had ripped open the bindings even before Lysandre had vanished again, his eyes widening as he scanned the information contained within.

He had...

He couldn't have...

Sina and Dexio had just arrived back from the labs in a high state of alertness themselves, and he had ordered them to Geosenge and route ten immediately. There were Pokemon there that needed to be freed, and he had sent them there with not a moment's thought.

There was more coming in, and his gaze snapped back to the screen. He had missed rather a lot, it seemed - there were photographs of a lethal-looking crystalline spire, some minor destruction to the surrounding houses but the rock formations, ancient and unmoving, shattered into dust. The ultimate weapon, Augustine's brain supplied dully, the goal Lysandre had apparently been working towards for...

How long? How long had he known Lysandre, how long had he been a part of his life, while all the while he aimed to destroy everything?

He could not breathe.

Finally, video footage began to filter in - shaky hand-held footage, but clear enough. Augustine's breath escaped in a rush - Dexio and Sina were clearly there, the white of their heroic uniforms (he had tried to convince them, at least, that they were unnecessary - still, it was their choice) smudged with dust and grime. Nearby stood the latest Pokedex holders - Tierno and Trevor, standing but a little behind Sina and Dexio, along with -

_By Arceus, had they been inside?_

Little Shauna, shaking a little, rubbed her arms with her bare hands. Grim-faced Yves, the Veterans' son, was checking over his Greninja, the starter visible even with the terrible resolution of the video. And, a little apart from them, Xandra, the newcomer to Kalos, was staring at the crater with a lost, rather faraway look, her Roserade clinging to her pants leg.

He had chosen them for this life.

But nowhere did he see Lysandre, no matter how far the cameras roamed, and he found himself urging it to scan further, more to the left, more to the right, up a little, into the crater, anything to try and catch a glimpse of a smart charcoal suit and blazing red hair. He would have been in the middle of all this, Augustine thought sharply, he would have stayed...

Suddenly feeling rather nauseous, he spun away, hurrying towards the cafe.

It was completely empty, and he was grateful as he slipped through the gap between the wall and the cabinet. All was quiet as he swiped the lift pass that Lysandre's folder had contained, descending another level, making for the cage he had been told was there...

"He activated the weapon," said the giant in the cage, and Augustine tried to muster more than tired surprise.

"He destroyed it," he replied hollowly, deactivating the cage and allowing the giant to step out. "He told me what he was doing - a confession, really. He told me to release you."

The giant nodded, resting a hand on Augustine's shoulder briefly - with some misplace amusement, Augustine noted that he had to stoop slightly to do even that. "Then he did what I could not."

Augustine could not bring himself to look at this man, this creator of weapons, this bringer of genocide. "He did. And now I believe he's dead."

The word cracked sharply, broken glass on his tongue, and the giant did not reply as he instead followed the professor back to the lift.

Blinking in the sun as they left the cafe, Augustine glanced up at the man, then away again. He had created such devastation - he found himself sorely wishing that this man had destroyed himself in that long-ago war, that such destruction would have never again come to Kalos.

That this sickness, this madness in his blood, had never been reborn in Lysandre.

"Excuse me," he said stiffly, hurrying away from the cafe, not able to bring himself to be surprised when the giant vanished.

He had to go there, he decided before he was even halfway back to his laboratory. He had to go to Geosenge and find Lysandre, or what was left of him. If the truth came out, and truth had a nasty habit of doing precisely that, then he doubted Lysandre would be considered worthy of a funeral, his body desecrated.

Augustine was fairly certain he hated him now, but not even he believed Lysandre was deserving of that.

"Pierre!" he called as soon as he hurried into the apartment above his office, scanning for the Pokemon, "I have a task for you!"

There was the clicking sound of hooves on tile, and he spun to find Lili, his Skiddo, followed by a curious-looking Kirlia. Deflating a little in relief, he offered Pierre a shaken smile. "I need to gather some equipment," he explained in a quiet undertone, "But - well, you can see -"

Pierre nodded solemnly, tiptoeing over to rest a hand against Augustine's leg, gazing up solemnly. His shoulders were slumped, red eyes darkened, and Augustine resisted a wince - the Kirlia's unhappy state was due to the turmoil he could feel swirling around in his head, and he forced a smile. "I'm sorry. But - we must ensure that they do not desecrate him - we will tell them that we are taking readings."

With a pet for Lili, the two hurried down to the office as he threw a few scientific-looking instruments in a bag. _Readings of what, Professor?_ Pierre asked curiously.

"Whatever I can think of to use as an excuse." His voice sounded helpless, even to him, and after a moment, Pierre nodded. "Shall we go?"

Pierre did not answer verbally (or, well, telepathically) - instead, the vague sense of an affirmative answer pinged vaguely in Augustine's head, and the Kirlia rested one hand on his arm. Before he even had time to draw in his breath, they had teleported, and Augustine found himself suddenly choking on dust.

"Professor Sycamore?" frowned one of the workers staring down at the pit, "I am sorry, but we're not certain it's safe..."

"It's fine!" he coughed, waving dust away. "It's fine," he repeated, his throat a little clearer. "I need to take some readings - there's a chance that whatever the explosion exposed could be a risk."

It could be, he thought suddenly. It would not be good if the people around Geosenge avoided the explosion only to become sick.

"Have you seen the kids around here?" he added suddenly, "Seven of them, five teenagers and two young adults. Some have authorised starters."

Pausing, the worker gestured. "Are they some of them?"

Sina and Dexio. Augustine nodded and thanked him, and the worker hurried away, leaving him to hurry to their sides. "Are you alright?"

Sina looked exhausted, but she still managed a feeble smile. "Hi, Professor. We're fine - did Pierre bring you here?"

The Kirlia nodded at his side, and Augustine smiled weakly back. "He did. Where are the kids? I saw them on the broadcast."

"Broadcast?" Dexio repeated, then shook his head. "We told them to head back to Anistar and to continue onwards. There's evacuations going on right now - they have other 'porters taking the townspeople away. We wanted to check in with you before we went anywhere."

"Good man," Augustine said with a grin, hoping but not very sure about it reaching his eyes. "I want a full report later on, okay? Just - not here. Go get some rest, okay?"

They nodded their ascent and hurried off tiredly, and he watched them depart with a smile before letting it drop. Quietly setting up a few scanners to learn what he could, he turned to Pierre, frowning slightly, focusing on the words, _Find Lysandre's body, please._

And then he would... he wasn't entirely sure. No, he didn't want anyone else here to desecrate his remains, but what was he expected to do? Have his own private burial? Contact any gravediggers in his contacts book? Exhaling, he slumped down in front of a metre, gazing at it sightlessly as it started recording the odd energy readings and radiation in the air.

Pierre returned to his side as quickly as he had vanished, a look of consternation (or, at least, one that Augustine assumed was consternation - the Kirlia did tend towards stoicism) on his face. Tugging impatiently at his lab coat, Augustine glanced down in puzzlement, and thought, _Did you find him?_

_Yes,_ Pierre returned, hesitated, and then quietly added, _He is still alive._

Augustine, at that moment, was very glad he was sitting down. "What?" he whispered out loud.

The Kirlia stared up at him, an obvious question in those large red eyes. Augustine shook his head, pressing the heel of his hand against his forehead. Lysandre was alive - alive, and probably badly wounded, or not wounded at all if he had found some air pocket, or - or -

He couldn't think. Lysandre was still alive?

_Bring him... bring him back home,_ he instructed Pierre dazedly, _Put him in my bed, then come back and bring me back as well._

He had readings, he didn't need anything else. Gathering his things up hurriedly, he glanced down at the crater where a tiny flash of movement through the rubble was visible. Pierre had returned to where ever Lysandre was, teleporting him out of the rubble - they'd be at home now, Pierre telekinetically pulling back the sheets before depositing Lysandre's probably broken body on it - he would pull the sheets back up, give some quick instructions to Lili, and then - 

He smiled weakly at the Kirlia as he reappeared, straightening up. "I'll tell the workers," he said, the words feeling distant, finding the nearest one and instructing him to send a message to his laboratory if anything of interest was found. Exhaling shakily, he turned back to Pierre and nodded, the movement not even finished before he found himself back in his own apartment.

_What do we do?_ Pierre asked uncertainly as Augustine approached the bed as if he was approaching a wounded and angry Pokemon, his gaze fixed on tangled hair and bloodied skin. _Professor? Professor, what do you want us to do now?_

"I don't know," he whispered, falling to his knees in front of the bed, head pillowed against one arm, the other hand groping for what was left of Lysandre's, "I don't know."


	3. Helping Hand

**Chapter 2 - Helping Hand**

Xandra, despite what Sina and Dexio had assumed, was not in Anistar City. She had not yet set foot on Vallée Étroite Way, and she had not returned to Lumiose City to reconvene and recover before heading off to the eighth gym of Kalos.

Instead, she found herself standing before a house in Vaniville Town, the still mostly unfamiliar building a balm to her, suddenly feeling like home for the first time since she had arrived in Kalos. Accompanied by Rhyhorn snores, her feet feeling like lead, she pushed onwards, fumbling for her key ring.

She had not needed to - the door had popped open, a frantic-looking Grace hanging on to the door frame. "My sweet baby!" she cried out, dragging Xandra into a fierce hug. Grace was known for toughness, for strength, for being a racer of dangerous animals - but now she was weeping, her tears damp against Xandra's forehead, and Xandra could feel her own eyes filling with tears in delayed shock and sympathetic response.

"Mama," she whispered, burrowing her head against her mother's shoulder, feeling exhaustion sweep over her like a wave. "Mama, can I - sit down?"

"Of course, of course," Grace murmured, guiding her over to the sofa and letting Xandra flop against it. "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you? I saw you on the television, you were _right there_ -"

"I saved the world," she said groggily, her hand tightening spasmodically around one of the Pokeballs on her belt. "I saved the world, but - but I saw someone die, and he was _mad_ and I don't -" Her voice hitched alarmingly, and she held up the ball shakily. "And I caught the legendary Pokemon. Mama, Xerneas is in this ball. I caught _Xerneas_. I - I sent Ursula back, she got gored, but now I have - _this_ and I don't know what to do and -"

Settling down beside her, Grace tugged Xandra against her side, running her calloused fingers through her hair. "You cut your hair. Short hair suits you," she said with a wry smile, fluffing up Xandra's bangs, "What happened? You lost me when you mentioned the legendary Pokemon - what _happened_?"

Xandra let her breath out slowly, then inhaled again, counting down a handful of seconds before releasing it again. "It started when that letter arrived from Professor Sycamore," she started slowly, and let the whole thing come out.

 

She was meant to be resting.

The story she had told to her mother in fits and bursts, chuckling at content memories, growing sombre at the serious times, having to stop and start when they finally arrived in Geosenge again, tears choking her words. And then her mother had sent her to bed, guiding her carefully up the stairs to her own room, her own familiar things. Skimming her fingers over her desk, she found her bed, set the six Pokeballs at her waist on the bedside table (one a little further from the others), and collapsed against the sheets.

And then sleep had, rather inconveniently, not come.

That last confrontation with Lysandre - it played in her mind, over and over, like a video set on loop and the buttons jammed. She hadn't minded him, the first few times they had met - Professor Sycamore clearly thought the world of him ('passionate', he had said!), and even if there was a hint of fanaticism to his words, the basic concept was sound. She had seen it herself, hadn't she?

She had seen the parts of Lumiose City that didn't tend to get put in the tourist brochures, where poverty-stricken families lived piled on top of each other in crowded apartments - if there were too many people in the world, then yes, resources would have grown thin. They already were - it was hard to ignore reports of famine in far-off regions, of war and conflict over ever diminishing resources, of the slums of the great cities, hidden away from the gyms and the Pokemon centres and the tourist sights, a dirty secret to everyone.

But to commit genocide... blindly, she reached for one of her Pokeballs, knowing by touch that it held her starter, and released the Delphox.

Renard blinked a little at the sudden change in environment, immediately turning his attention to his trainer. _Are you being okay?_ he asked in a rush, the words blurring together - while Renard was more than capable with Kalosian, his psychic abilities were still relatively new, and his syntax and the pace and flow of his words still left a little to be desired. _We fought the flame man and the -_ An image of a Mienshao, Lysandre's Mienshao, popped into her head, and she nodded once - _\- and then went away and the - what happened?_

Wordlessly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and gestured. Obligingly, the Delphox scrambled up beside her, a warm and reassuring presence just a little smaller than herself. Reaching for his front paw, she pressed it against her forehead, then closed her eyes and remembered.

This was still something new that they had been experimenting with - Renard struggled a little with telepathy and Ursula, the Malamar still recovering in the PC, struggled with Kalosian in general, and a direct exchange of images and memories and feelings was just a bit quicker. (Luc, the Lucario who had joined her in Shalour City, could at least communicate fluently in Kalosian, having had years to practise.) With Renard, younger and still getting used to his psychic abilities, images worked better than words.

And this exchange - this worked too, with the Delphox letting out a little gasp, his ears drooping as he curled into a ball at her side. From his mind was a distinct mix of fear, sympathy, and concern, and she stroked the soft fur behind his ears with a sad smile that did not quite meet her eyes.

"We're okay now," she whispered, not sure whether she was trying to reassure her starter or herself. "We - we survived, and Shauna survived, and Yves, and Tierno and Trevor and Sina and Dexio are all fine, and - and Ursula will be okay, and we saved the world, and..."

If she could keep repeating it, she would be fine. She survived, and her team survived, and Ursula survived, and Shauna survived, and Yves survived, and Tierno survived, and Trevor survived, and Sina survived, and Dexio survived, and the world survived, and then the mantra would be interrupted by the sinister little voice that could not stop remind her that Lysandre had killed himself in front of them, and she would have to start from the beginning.

She wanted her team. Exhaling, she released the rest of them - the floor creaking as Adrien, her Lapras, emerged and lowered his head to nuzzle hers reassuringly, Luc immediately taking a seat on the end of her bed, Alanna and Jacques, her Sylveon and Roserade, scrambling up, Jacques settled on her other side, Alanna draping herself over her legs and letting out a gentle whine.

They had all fought for her - the five of them, and Ursula, who she had sent back in order to claim Xerneas.

That ball, she decided, she was not going to open.

"We survived, at least," she murmured sleepily to them all, reassured by the majority of her team surrounding her. Carefully, she slid down, letting Renard, Jacques, and little Alanna curl up against her (or, in Alanna's case, over her legs - the Sylveon was big on physical affection, and even now was wrapping one of her tendrils gently around Xandra's wrist). Luc, on the end of the bed, sighed and stretched out; Adrien tucked his head in. "I'm glad you're all here with me."

This time, when she closed her eyes, sleep managed to take her, after all.

 

The rest of the day had, in the end, been a write-off. Xandra had slept well into the night, waking with a start as it neared midnight - and ravenously hungry, to boot. Carefully dislodging her team members, she tiptoed around Adrien's bulk and approached the door only to find a tray with a small collection of foil-covered plates sitting just outside. Her mother, apparently guessing that Xandra would be hungry when she woke up, had prepared a plate of sandwiches - rye bread layered with cream cheese and chives, a few slices with peanut butter and chocolate sprinkles, a small bowl of pecha berries dusted with sugar, and, best of all, _two syrup waffles_.

Practically inhaling one before realising she probably should have had some real food first, Xandra smiled mareepishly as she brought it back inside. There was also a tall glass of juice, she noted as she set the tray on her desk, and a small stack of Poke Puffs, both the sweet pink ones and the drier mint ones.

"Hey," she whispered to her team, only Luc and Alanna stirring, "Mama got you some puffs." Alanna perked up eagerly, tucking into the mint one Xandra set before her, while Luc delicately took one of the pink ones, nibbling at the frosting.

Smiling at the sight of the serious-looking Lucario and his intense enjoyment of the pink fluffy thing, she turned to her own late dinner, eating with the single-mindedness of someone who hadn't actually eaten all day.

By the time she was done, the rest of her team was awake, and the rest of the puffs distributed (mint for Renard and Jacques as well, and two of the leftover sweet ones for Adrien, who had never really been picky). Chewing the last of the syrup waffles, she sat back thoughtfully, surveying her assembled team.

"Tomorrow," she started, then paused, checked the clock, and corrected herself; "Sorry - today, once we rest up some more, I'll head up to Aquacorde Town, get Seraphine out of the PC box, and we'll fly to Anistar City. Then, we'll get Ursula back and keep going. I don't think we should stop just because..." Her voice trailed off, almost uncertain.

A warm pulse of reassurance fluttered gently against the edge of her consciousness, and she threw a smile to her starter, returning a silent thank you. "I don't think we should just stop. From Anistar City, it isn't too far - there's a town in between it and the next gym city, so I think we should try to be there tomorrow night. What do you think? Are you -" She hesitated again - her team _had_ just fought for their lives. "Are you feeling up for it? We can have one of the Joys look you guys over if you need it."

She had patched them up the best she could, with potions and sprays and a few bandages (even now, there was a bandage covering the frost damage that had marred Jacques' arm - it was healing rapidly, though, a definite plus).

But for the most part, they looked fine - Luc shrugged, scanning the others. Jacques tilted his head, poking at the bandage then holding his other hand up as if to say, well, what could they do? Renard focused on him, then Alanna, then Adrien in turn, then glanced back up at Xandra. _We'll go!_ he said grimly, determination rippling off him in almost tangible waves.

Xandra smiled carefully, fighting to keep her eyes from growing damp. Her team still supported her, no hesitation at all that she could see. They would press on, because it was a part of the life she had chosen - they would press on, because they had survived, had fought for the right to continue living her life, to fight for the right of everyone to continue living.

And if that meant she would continue on her journey, then that was precisely what she would do.


	4. Sacred Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Graphic description of injuries.

**Chapter 3 - Sacred Fire**

It was a little after midnight when Lysandre finally stirred, a soft, pained groan escaping his lips as he tried to shift. Augustine, who had drifted into an exhausted sleep an hour earlier, shot up immediately, wincing as his back protested the awkward position he had fallen asleep in.

"Lysandre," Augustine whispered through lips that were drier than they had any right to be, scanning Lysandre's face for any sign of alertness.

There was one, eventually - a flicker of eyelashes, a crease in his brow, lips curled in a frown before parting.

"Augustine." Lysandre sounded like he had swallowed gravel, his voice was so hoarse. And then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, the nominally cheerful sound quiet and strained and pained. "Ah. So this is what it is to be."

For a moment, Augustine found himself quite unable to speak - Lysandre was conscious, he had moved (just a little), he had spoken legibly and coherently. This did not add up - his injuries when he had been... Augustine's mind skittered away from the word 'rescued' and instead settled on 'retrieved' - had been ones that no one should have survived. "Do you know where you are?" he found himself saying instead.

There was an affirmative noise. "Your bed, from the feel of it," he rasped. "I feel the movement of air, so the window is open, but it is fairly quiet, so it must be night. I may have been unconscious for several hours, or perhaps several days. I assume you had Pierre remove me from the rubble."

Coherent, then, and able to use critical thinking to boot, to determine all that with his eyes shut. Augustine made an affirmative sound of his own, reaching for Lysandre's wrist - his pulse was still thready, but stronger than it had been when he had first arrived. "Several hours," he confirmed quietly, "The last time we spoke was this morning, when -"

"When I gave you my confession," Lysandre supplied, letting out a small cough. "Yes, I remember."

He fell silent then, but his breathing, fast and a little unsteady, indicated that he was probably still awake. Augustine bit his lip savagely, then returned to the page he was reading.

"... _The world is an unhappy, untidy, and impure place_ ," he read aloud, barely needing to glance at the page, so seared into his brain the words were. " _It has begun to overflow with filth and corruption, and this will only continue as the population spirals out of control. Conventional means of population control would not be enough to save the world - instead, to save it, we must destroy it with the purest form of destruction, leaving it in the hands of trusted custodians only._ "

Lysandre had stilled, now, listening to his own words falling from Augustine's lips.

" _Pokemon, wonderful as they are, are responsible for so much use of the world's resources. We use minerals to construct Pokeballs, raze forests to the ground to plant crops to produce their food, trample cities with Pokemon Centres and Gyms and Battle Institutes. Pokemon are wonderful and they are destroying everything we should be holding dear - if we are to hold this world like a fragile egg in our hands, then their eradication must take place as well - for their own protection against exploitation and abuse, too. There must be a great cleansing - the world must be born again in flame. L'Ordre Sacré du Feu Purifiant will usher in a new era._ " Augustine set down the folder and made a noise of disgust. "This is what those Team Flare goons are calling themselves? A sacred order, Lysandre? Do you feel you have been tasked with cleansing the world by - what, the gods? By your royal ancestors?"

Lysandre made no answer, a frown crossing his lips. Augustine shook his head wildly, his curls bouncing around his face, and shot to his feet, pacing a path from the bed to his dining table and back.

When he had first opened the folder, he had been in action mode - what did he need to know, right then and there, and what could he do about it? He had sent Sina and Dexio to free the trapped Pokemon, he had freed AZ - it had not been until he had got Lysandre home that he had read more into it and seen how deeply the rot went.

There was something wrong with Lysandre, that much was abundantly obvious. The man lying in his bed was sick - something that had gone terribly wrong, something that had told Lysandre that the destruction of everything was simply the only way to save the world.

When had the passionate man he had mentored, his first student after he had achieved his own doctorate, turned idealism into a cynicism so deep that destruction was the only way? Lysandre had once been so passionate about making the world a better place - he read deeply about environmental issues, he could debate brilliantly on any topic he was given, he had worked on communicative technologies to spread ideas and knowledge amongst the world.

But at some point, Lysandre's passion and genius, the fire that burnt in him with everything from his studies and then work to the time he spent with Augustine - had turned to fanaticism. At some point, he had become convinced that the world had to be purified. The Sacred Order of the Purifying Fire - that was not the name of a group that was innocent and innocuous.

That was the name of a group that wanted to see the world burn.

"Augustine." Lysandre had yet to open his eyes, but now he did so, brilliant blue meeting Augustine's almost against the professor's will. "The machine. The legendary Pokemon. You know what it did to me, did you not?"

"You wanted to live forever," he said dully, recalling the passages that spoke about how L'Ordre Sacré would be the sole survivors. "I suppose you got lucky - you must have avoided being crushed, maybe you were in an air pocket -"

"I was not." Lysandre's eyes were alive, almost dancing, his hands opening and clenching again. "I was _not_ in an air pocket. I felt myself be crushed. I could feel my organs compacting, I could feel my lungs bursting open, I could feel myself be impaled on iron rods, I could feel my arm almost being severed." He raised his right hand, opening and clenching the fist again. "I could feel my skull shatter and my eyeballs burst and my brain splatter. I felt myself die. And then I did not."

"What -" Augustine's voice cracked immediately, caught up both on the graphic violence of Lysandre's description and the implication of his words. "What are you talking about?"

And Lysandre laughed, hollow and grim and gleeful and unhappy all in one. "I told them," he continued, half speaking to himself. "The children, after they stopped me. I told them. I told them that I would give them the pain of endlessly waiting for a beautiful world to finally be built. They will live forever now, like that hollow of a man who destroyed the world for a companion who could not appreciate it. They will live _forever_. And now? So will I."

 

The next morning had found Yves in Shalour City, Shauna already in Snowbelle City, Xandra preparing to leave Anistar City. With a teleporting Kirlia, it didn't really matter where they were - he would drop by and see Yves in Shalour City first, and with Couriway being a good place to be, he had calmly, carefully asked Xandra to meet him there.

And then he started gathering scanners, equipment, collecting the Kanto starters that he had chosen to raise himself. He could test her in a battle and scan her and her Pokemon at the same time - if Lysandre was right, then she and the Pokemon she had had on hand would be emitting the same energy that was leaking off Lysandre and that he had picked up in Geosenge Town, too.

And if she did...

He would have to work out what to say to the children. That was going to be the hard part - there was certainly no easy way to say, "Guess what, my genocidal former student and probably former lover at this point because I can't even look at him without disgust let alone anything else has turned you and your Pokemon immortal. Good luck with that whole never dying thing!"

If Xandra was only just starting through Vallée Étroite Way, it would take her some time before reaching Couriway Town - at least a good few hours. He would be able to see Yves first, and possibly Shauna. Where were Trevor and Tierno? He would have to find them, too - they had not been exposed to the radiation, or so Lysandre had claimed, but they would be invaluable to compare to the other three. What of Sina and Dexio? They had returned to the laboratory yesterday afternoon as Lysandre had slept upstairs, but he had not yet learned exactly what Lysandre had done to them all - there would have been no chance to scan them as well. They would simply have to return.

Straightening up from where he was kneeling over his bag, he rubbed his back with a wince. Sleeping on his sofa had certainly not been comfortable, and he had had no desire to share the bed with Lysandre (yet another problem - Lysandre, at the point of no return, had made a public broadcast stating exactly what he intended to do, and he somehow didn't think it would be a good idea for him to show his face, necessitating the stay in his apartment).

Still, he could deal with that later. Tapping the button to call the elevator, he swiped his card and hit the button for his apartment, rising steadily.

"Lysandre," he called as he rounded the corner and into the bedroom, voice chilled to something just above arctic. "Once Pierre has transported me, he will return. Do not attempt to leave. You may eat what you wish from the kitchen, but if you attempt to damage anything or try to escape, Pierre has authority to stop you."

The Kirlia nodded, glaring fiercely and probably wishing he was already ready to evolve just to do more damage. Augustine did not give Lysandre another glance, merely nodding to Pierre and vanishing from sight.

He had scanned Yves as they had fought, and he had found an answer. He had found not just Shauna, visiting her father in Snowbelle City, but Tierno as well, and he had scanned them both as they battled with interesting results. He had run into Sina and Dexio as he had hurried towards Couriway, had briefly explained that he needed to scan them, and did so. And by the time he found himself in Couriway (just in time, as he could see Xandra heading into the Pokemon Centre from the route eighteen exit), he was almost certain.

He had not found any of those energy readings coming off Tierno and his Pokemon, nor Sina or Dexio. He had from Yves and Shauna, and the Pokemon they had used when battling. And as he tiredly approached Xandra, he was sure he knew what he would find.

"Hello," he called, barely mustering a smile. "I have to apologise to you about Lysandre..."

In more ways than one, he thought grimly.

"I'm very sorry for the trouble he caused - and I'd also like to thank you. I'm sincerely grateful for what you did for all of the Pokemon and people of this world. And by stopping Team Flare, you also saved Lysandre. I always knew that he desired a beautiful world..." He stopped himself there, the words choked off. How could he have been so blind?

But Lysandre was lying in his bed, not battered to pieces by rubble. Perhaps he could be saved, yet.

Xandra shrugged awkwardly, one hand on the Pokeballs clipped to her belt. "I had to," she said softly, tugging her hat over her dark eyes. "He was crazy. Even if he had a point, he tried to kill everyone."

Augustine nodded soberly. "Maybe someday the population of people and Pokemon will actually increase to where resources become very scarce. If someone acts out of greed in such a world, surely some will go without. If all living things keep acting that way, there will be nothing left at all in the end. There won't even be anything left to steal, will there?"

The trainer shook her head silently.

"But what I really wanted was for him to put his ego aside and lead everything to greater heights," he forced out. "I never had this discussion with him, though. So I'm partially responsible for this."

She looked puzzled now, lifting her hat to stare at him. "It's fine, Professor," she answered awkwardly. "I asked, no one else got killed. The Pokemon are fine and the members of Flare were all arrested. He's dead, so it's over."

Augustine, for a moment, could not bring himself to answer. He was responsible for all of this - for Lysandre's continued... existence, for the strange state that Xandra and Yves and Shauna had found themselves in. Lysandre had seen it as a curse - if that was true, then he, Augustine, had damned them all. "Well," he said, pushing the words out, forcing a smile on to his face. "Enough of that. Xandra! I want you and your Pokemon to take everything you learned from your journey and hit me with your very best shot!"

But even her mastery with her Pokemon left a bitter taste in his mouth, because the Delphox and the Roserade and the Lapras she sent out in turn to defeat his own Pokemon would face the same fate, a life stretched to breaking point, years upon years with no sign of death in sight.


	5. Blizzard

**Chapter 4 - Blizzard**

_To the person reading this: What are you like now? Did you become who you wanted to be? For starters, what was the person you wanted to become even like? I don’t know, but it would be wonderful if you can boast that you're living each day to its fullest. To future Sycamore. From the Sycamore dreaming of the future._

Xandra traced the letters carved into the wood of the bench and hummed quietly to herself.

Professor Sycamore had definitely seen happier days when he had come to see her. He had seemed almost... deflated when he had greeted her, as if the weight of what had happened was resting solely on his shoulders. It was ridiculous, and she had said as much - it was done and dusted, and now she could focus all of her attention on making her way to Snowbelle City, getting the last gym badge, and then...

She exhaled slowly. And then, she could face Victory Road and the Pokemon League.

It hadn't been her goal at first. Yves, certainly, had set off with the goal of becoming champion - the son of skilled trainers, fighting was in his blood. She, however, had just been sent off on her own journey with a fuzzy fire fox and a Pokedex.

And in the process, she had saved the world.

What was the person she wanted to become like? She wanted to be herself, not just the daughter of Grace, the Famous Rhyhorn Racer. Well, she was doing that - she wasn't exactly intending on racing her Pokemon. Was becoming Champion really what she wanted?

Would that give her a purpose or just another job? What was she meant to be? She wanted to push herself, that much she knew - to test herself, push herself to her limits and see what happened. Yves, she knew, had a similar goal, even if his was deliberately aimed at becoming the best. She just wanted to be the best version of herself she could be.

Well, she could do that.

With a soft exhalation, she drew out her map, tracing Grande Vallée Way from its start to finish. Part of it looked pretty straightforward - a path with grass on either side, but otherwise clear. If she left first thing in the morning and hurried, slipping past trainers, she could be in Snowbelle by lunch time. On the other hand, the marshlands looked pretty interesting, and there were usually trainers to fight and useful items to pick up - but that would risk her getting in well after dark.

Maybe she would make her leisurely way to Snowbelle, get herself sorted, and venture out the next morning for training? She could easily spend the day there, rest up, then challenge Snowbelle Gym the day after that.

Nodding firmly to herself, she tucked the map away with released Renard and Luc, the two blinking in the late afternoon sun.

"Hi," she told them with a quick smile. "Look, we'll stay here in Couriway tonight. But tomorrow morning, we're going to try for Snowbelle City. There's also some areas that look good for training, which we can do tomorrow afternoon or the day after that. Do you think you'd be up for the Ice gym in three days time?"

Both nodded, Renard literally exuding confidence. _We'll melt them!_

Xandra chuckled, despite herself. "Okay. I'm going to train all of you, since we're going to have our biggest battles after that - once we get this badge, we can challenge the Pokemon League." Luc made a surprised sound, cocking his head. "Yeah - I think I am going to do this. I fought for this - and I have confidence in all of you."

Reaching out gently, Renard set a hand on her shoulder, the warmth seeping through her light jacket (that was another thing she would have to find - a heavier coat), exuding confidence and support. "Thanks, guys," she told them, giving them both smiles before returning them.

Either way, she was stepping closer and closer to a conclusion.

 

"- was interesting seeing them all there, huh, Renard?"

Not bothering with telepathy, Renard chirruped in agreement. He had been accompanying her through the forest until a hoard of Trevenant on their way back to Snowbelle had put an end to that, and now they were safe and sound back in Snowbelle, Renard fully conscious again and excitedly recounting the journey to the Pokemon Village.

"...But sad," she added suddenly, remembering what the gym leader had said about them leading hard lives. "I mean, it's good they found somewhere to stay, but..."

He nodded soberly, glancing up as they neared the gym. Determination was, again, rolling off him subtly in waves, and Xandra felt a smile crossing her face.

"Ready?"

_Yes!!_

After Anistar Gym, Xandra really couldn't bring herself to be surprised about the giant coloured wheels overhead, instead scanning the room to see which one she would approach first. Only the trainer on the pink platform was immediately available - adjusting her belt so that the other four were further to the back (especially Jacques, who would be vulnerable to ice attacks) and so that Renard and Luc's Pokeballs were closest at hand, she stepped on to the platform, locking eyes with the trainer.

Very little preamble passed before the trainer tossed out her first Pokemon, a Sneasel. Xandra grinned and released Luc - this would be a piece of cake.

And, for the most part, it was. The first trainer's Cloyster went down to Luc as well, and the next one brought out a Delibird and the one moment of consternation of the day - a Mamoswine, capable of powerful attacks that both Renard and Luc would be vulnerable. On the other hand, both Renard and Luc outsped the Mamoswine laughably easily, and it was down before it had realised what had happened.

The same line reappeared with the next trainer, this one only a Piloswine. Xandra had looked almost apologetic as Luc knocked it out with a single strike, the Cryogonal and Jynx being put away neatly as well.

"Try using Ice Beam on some berry juice for some ice-cold frappes!" the trainer called as she hurried to the next one, and Xandra called back an affirmative.

The last of the four trainers had a Beartic and a Vanilluxe, and then there was nothing left in her path save for a puzzle. She would be facing the leader (Wulfric, his name was Wulfric) within the minute.

Eight and a half minutes later, out of breath from running between platforms and somewhat bad-tempered, she found herself in front of the leader, straightening up her hair and smiling somewhat sheepishly. Puzzles were definitely not her forte, and she was half tempted to recommend that when Yves inevitably came by, he brought Shauna to solve the puzzle for him.

"So you finally made it, huh?" Wulfric told her gravely, a smile twitching the corners of his moustache.

"Finally," she echoed, with an embarrassed smile, straightening up and setting her hand on Luc's Pokeball.

With a nod, he cleared his throat. "Y'know what?" he asked her, and she shook her head obligingly. "Ice is both extremely hard and terribly fragile at the same time. You know what that means? Depending on which Pokemon you choose and what moves they use, I could be your most challenging opponent yet or I could be a total pushover. But that's all right. That's how it should be! Anyway, enough of my rambling!" He grabbed a Pokeball from his coat pocket and tossed it high in the air, suddenly all business. Xandra felt herself grow tense, ready and focused. "Let's get this show on the road!" he exclaimed, and hurled out another Cryogonal.

Xandra nodded firmly, tossing her own ball in the air before releasing Luc. "Kick its - uh - kick its whatever, Luc!" she called encouragingly, and blue light began forming between the Lucario's paws.

It went down. So did the Abomasnow afterwards, Luc already in the zone. It was only when the enormous Avalugg was released that she recalled him, releasing Renard instead. Doing a double-take at the enormous iceberg Pokemon, towering a good foot and a half over him, he glanced back at Xandra and nodded.

"You're the last gym leader I have to fight," she told Wulfric quietly, "And this is the last one you have, so I'm going to use my first Pokemon. Renard!" _Time to melt it!_

Renard let out a war cry and a jet of flame so hot she could feel herself getting sunburnt, her eyes watering. Steam exploded, and even Wulfric let out an impressed whistle, a flash of light indicating the Avalugg being recalled to its ball. "Outstanding!" he called to her, audible pride in his voice, "Impressive! Your Pokemon fought with great courage - I can tell that you've trained them well!"

Somewhere unseen, a fan clicked on, the steam clearing from the air. Xandra blinked suddenly, recalling Renard. "Is your Avalugg okay?" she asked cautiously, "I think he really wanted to make me proud, so he might have gone, uh, a bit overboard..."

"Nothing a hose and some time outside in the snow won't fix!" Wulfric proclaimed cheerfully. "Your Delphox just got his outer shell, there's no nerve endings there. They're much deeper, along with his organs. Anyway - here!"

And in to her slightly numb hands, he dropped a gleaming hexagonal badge. "What you have right there is called the Iceberg Badge. As long as you have that, any and all of your Pokemon will surely look up to you and do their absolute best in battle. And, I hope you've learned a valuable lesson today! Being rigid can make you tough, but it will also render you fragile. You're better off being flexible. You know what I mean? Some people are fluid like water and can adapt to their environment without changing what's important on the inside." He chuckled, reaching out to pat her on the back. "Not me, though. I guess I'm too stubborn. Maybe that's why I love Ice types." 

"Ice types are pretty cool," she agreed, pausing sheepishly as she realised the pun she had just made. "I have a Lapras myself."

"Take good care of that Lapras," he chuckled, "And if you ever get another Ice-type, I think I can find a place for you at my gym." Stepping on a hidden switch as she processed this, he gestured to the immense ice slide that had just formed. "Take a mat, don't want you freezing in place. I'll meet you outside soon as I check my team."

Vaguely guilty, she nodded, stepping on to the mat and letting out a shrill yelp as it suddenly turned itself into a toboggan. It bottomed out suddenly as she neared the door and suddenly she found herself sprawling at the bottom, rather dizzy, the gym guide chuckling as he helped her to her feet.

"Are you following me?" she asked dazedly, and he simply laughed.

"Congrats on smashing our gym leader to pieces!" he said with a smile, "I knew you could do it, champ! It's never a bad thing to test the limits of your strength - am I right or am I right?"

She laughed despite herself, still feeling rather unsteady from the slide and grateful for his support as he led her back into the fresh air. "Yeah, you're right."

"So, since you're such a star," he mused, "I guess you're off to the Pokemon League?"

"He's right," Wulfric's voice said suddenly from the door, the man emerging himself. "You have all the gym badges now, so there's really only one thing to do - it's time to head off to the Pokemon League!" He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Listen up, now - trust in your Pokemon, and there's no limit to what you can achieve!"

Buoyed by their enthusiasm and encouragement, her team safe in their balls and a route straight to the league ahead of her, Xandra grinned, flushed in pleasure. "Thanks," she told them both sincerely, "I'll set out first thing tomorrow morning." Jogging backwards through the snow, aiming for the Pokemon Centre and the room she had been given there for the past few days, she waved a hand in parting. "Thank you for everything!"

Next stop - Victory Road.


	6. Swords Dance

**Chapter 5 - Swords Dance**

"Did you know that nearly all of their Pokemon, aside from Xandra's Lucario and Lapras and Yves' Absol, are essentially children themselves?"

Augustine's words had come out more acidic than he had anticipated, and for a moment, Lysandre, busy with a crossword puzzle in the paper, did not answer.

"Are they really," he said flatly.

With a frustrated sigh, Augustine yanked the paper away, the pen gouging a line through it. "They're mostly entirely juveniles," he said grimly, "Who will forever be immature and, let's face it, undersized. To say nothing of the children themselves - Xandra and Yves might pass for adults who just happen to still look seventeen in several years time, but Shauna is _very_ young-looking for sixteen. Do you honestly think she's going to have an easy time of it in three or ten or thirty years?"

Lysandre frowned down at the table, setting the pen down with a short clack. "Conversely, I could claim that I did them a favour," he said tiredly. "Now, they will never grow old and tired and feeble. They will be forever young and beautiful - perfection preserved forever."

"They deserve the chance to be normal!" Augustine shouted, startling himself at both the sudden vehemence and volume of his words. "They deserve a chance to live out their lives and to be regular human beings and _you stole that from them_ in order for you to live out your sick revenge fantasies! Throwing them a parade for stopping you is hardly going to make it better!"

Letting out a single, cynical, "Ha," Lysandre raised his head to meet Augustine's gaze directly, and Augustine felt himself flounder in the intensity and, yes, passion of that stare. "And isn't that what you would expect? Have you not cast me as the villain of this piece - the hideous madman who goes on a killing spree and steals the lives of children?" He shook his head, the first visible frustration Augustine had seen since the Geosenge Incident (it had gained capital letters in his mind) crossing his face. "I have harmed no one. Not a single person has died, and instead, a handful of us have been granted eternal life. Is that not a wonderful thing?"

"Ask Shauna," Augustine snapped, "In ten years, when she finds that no one takes her seriously because she looks like a child. Ask Xandra and Yves, who will be questioned over and over as they try to rise through the ranks about their age and experience. Ask their Pokemon, some of whom will never be able to reproduce because they were only juveniles when you stole the option of growing up from them. And while you're at it, why don't you ask their families, who will never see their children grow up? Or their friends, who will leave them behind, and who they will eventually leave behind in return?"

The newspaper in his hand was beginning to rent; he tossed the crumpled paper on the ground. "And what about me?" he said before he could regret it, suddenly feeling very much like he wanted to sit down, exhausted and uncertain. "What will happen to us, now?"

For all of his earlier words, Lysandre had no answer to that one, glaring at the table as if he was trying to set it alight through sheer willpower.

"Lysandre," Augustine repeated tiredly, "When you planned to cleanse the world of everyone who was unworthy, were you planning on killing me as well?"

Three words, more uncertain than Augustine had ever heard from Lysandre - "...I don't know."

"Then what?" The torn newspaper on the floor was offending him; he snatched it up and smoothed out the crumpled page, folding it into smaller and smaller pieces. "When you activated the weapon, were you going to try to hit everywhere but this building? Would you have spared all my co-workers to keep me as well, or would you have written me off if I hadn't joined your pathetic _L'Ordre Sacré du Feu Purifiant_? Fuck you, Lysandre!"

Lysandre was glaring openly now. "What do you want me to say?" he snapped. "Yes, I was planning on wiping you out with everyone else? No, I was going to keep you alive personally? _I do not know_! I do not wish you dead, but since the future that I was chosen for was snatched from me, I cannot possibly know what I would have thought if you _had_ died."

For a long moment, neither spoke. And then Augustine was moving again, stalking to the kitchen, yanking a wickedly sharp chef's knife. Before he could talk himself out of it, he had moved to the table, pressed the handle into Lysandre's hand, and dragged the blade up so that the tip rested against the hollow of his throat, the raggedness of his breathing suddenly potentially life-threatening.

Lysandre froze, his hand white-knuckled around the blade.

"Could you do it?" Augustine said, forcing the words out in a parody of calmness but his eyes damp and his breathing unsteady, fighting to keep his hands still, to fight down the instinctual terror. "It's all well and good if you press a button and I die, halfway across a region. But could you kill me now?" He laughed hollowly. "I am not perfect. I am not young. I am not unchanging. I use resources and space and energy in doing my research. I have failed in my goals, repeatedly. _I do not know what I am doing._ " He met Lysandre's brilliant blue gaze head-on, trembling, the cold steel at his throat growing warm from its proximity to his body. "I am not perfect and I am not beautiful, Lysandre, and that makes me everything that you sought to destroy. Could you do it?"

Empires could have risen and fallen in the time it took to breath in once and breathe out again. And then the knife fell with a clatter.

"No," Lysandre said, his eyes overly bright, his head falling forward and coming to rest against Augustine's shoulder. "I could not. If I had, I would have loathed myself for the eternity I would have created. My victory would have been my greatest loss. I could not."

He exhaled, and Augustine found that there was raggedness there too, a hint of tears in the movement of air. "You are beautiful," he added in a whisper, and his hands found Augustine's and squeezed.

Even through the tears growing in his own eyes, Augustine found the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Here was a breakthrough - an admission that what he had done was not the right choice.

When Lysandre had awakened, he had spoken of his mission as if he still held true to it, as if his ideals had not changed with defeat. Now was the beginning of something new - new thoughts to override the old ones.

"Come on," Augustine whispered, tugging Lysandre to his feet and guiding him back to the bed. Here, they could sit side by side, the fierce flame of Lysandre's hair hiding his bowed head, Augustine's dark curls falling in his damp eyes. He took a reassuring breath and found that it did little to calm him. "What do we do now?" he asked, barely breathing the words.

"I don't know," Lysandre admitted, freeing one hand to lift Augustine's chin and depositing an almost chaste kiss on his lips, Augustine allowing the brief show of affection. "I have been defeated - that is for the best," he grudgingly admitted, "But I must admit that I am at a loss on what happens now."

Augustine made an uncertain sound, daring to rest his head against Lysandre's shoulder, both of his hands now wrapped around Lysandre's one. "You did make a mess of things when you sent out a public broadcast to everyone with a Holo Caster - which, I might remind you, is a good forty percent of the population, thanks to your own success - telling them you were going to destroy the world," he pointed out. "That clearly hasn't happened, but there is the matter of most of Geosenge Town being gone."

"That may have been a mistake," Lysandre admitted, and Augustine did not need to be a professor to note the barely restrained hysteria behind the otherwise calm words. "I suppose I will be a wanted fugitive now."

He nodded once, gazing at the floor. "In your defence, you didn't actually kill anyone. Not in your defence, you intended to. But then there's the fact that, well..." And he lifted his head, meeting Lysandre's gaze dead on. "You're immortal now. If they jail you for life, that could be a very long time."

"If they jail me for a normal human lifespan, they would have no guarantees that I would not commit further crimes once I got out," Lysandre added, "And I would just have to be patient. It would be inevitable that my jailers would die first."

"If they jailed you," Augustine continued soberly, not liking the direction the discussion had taken but glad that, at least, Lysandre was thinking of the consequences. "They would have to ensure that you remained locked away for as long as you continued to be a danger - but that could be impossible to prove. If you faked it, you would just have to wait, even if they locked you up for..." He waved a hand. "A hundred years."

"If they jailed me for a hundred years," Lysandre said softly, "You would be dead by the time I got out."

There was a sudden, nasty silence, and the thought that Augustine had refused to entertain - that in their... current states, he would die long before Lysandre did - rose to the forefront of his mind like a noxious gas. Lysandre's arm curled around his waist almost possessively, burying his face against Augustine's shoulder.

"What do we do now?" Lysandre whispered in an echo Augustine's earlier words, voice a hollow ring, and Augustine could not find it within himself to answer.


	7. Fly

**Chapter 6 - Fly**

All in all, knowing that she had just defeated the most powerful trainer in Kalos was a pretty good feeling.

Xandra felt like she had been walking in a dream for the past few days. She had made it through Victory Road, she had defeated the Elite Four, and she had taken on - and beaten - the champion, Diantha, who she really shouldn't have been surprised to see in the role. Then, Diantha explained, as someone who had defeated her, she had a choice.

Other regions simply stated that if you beat the Champion, you were the Champion. That had led to numerous problems, however - some Champions had a reign of just a handful of minutes, with a stronger competitor hot on their heels. Kalos, however, ran things differently - those who defeated the Champion had the option of training to become a Gym leader, either to replace a leader who used the type they wanted, or to start their own gym with an unused type. Eventually, if they were good enough and a vacancy opened, they would be permitted to try out to join the Elite Four - and then, only then, they would have a shot at being the Champion themselves.

Diantha had started out this way - after she had defeated one of the previous champions, she had begun to apprentice under a former Psychic-type leader. When she had been granted the role of leader, Olympia, the current Psychic-type leader, had passed the challenge as well, and when Diantha had joined the Elite Four, Olympia had become the leader of Anistar City Gym.

And then, as her colleagues in the Elite Four had their turn in the top seat, when the last champion had retired, Diantha had taken his place.

It was a long road, she had warned Xandra, and one had to be made of stern stuff to pass through the various tiers of leadership. Xandra, who was mostly stunned that every leader and possibly every gym trainer she had battled had been in precisely the same place, and utterly unsure what gym she would even want, had declined.

And that simply marked her as one of the handful of people every year who managed to pass the test and go on to pursue their own goals.

Yves had not passed the challenge, he had admitted the day after she had faced Diantha. He had taken down Malva's team with his Greninja, and Wikstrom's team with his Flareon, and his Altaria and Greninja together had made short work of Drasna's team - but with absolutely nothing effective to throw at Siebold, he had found his journey ending there.

Xandra, who had very nearly lost Jacques to that Gyarados, could definitely sympathise.

Still, he was to be honoured today - not for attempting to battle the Pokemon League, but for his role in helping to save the world. They had been briefed earlier that morning - Yves, Shauna, Tierno, and Trevor, along with Sina and Dexio, were to be given medals of commendation.

Xandra was to be given the Honour of Kalos.

Her legs felt leaden as she led the group up the red carpet to the band shell where they would be presented with their awards. Professor Sycamore was already there, and Sina and Dexio - they had received their awards already, and now it was their turn. Taking her place in the middle, flanked by Shauna and Trevor, she gazed out at the enormous crowd with something akin to vague terror.

"This is so weird," Shauna said in a hushed giggle, shifting slightly from foot to foot beside her.

"Tell me about it," she muttered in return, lifting her gaze as the professor approached. He was smiling broadly, holding a small pillow bearing four small medals and one rather ostentatious-looking one. He gave her a reassuring nod, then half-turned, gesturing subtly for her to be aware of the cameras watching their every move.

"What an amazing turnout!" he beamed, "All of these people are here to celebrate your achievements. To Shauna, Yves, Tierno, and Trevor, I would like to award you the Medal of Commendation - and to you, Xandra, I'd like to present you with the Honour of Kalos for the bravery you showed in battling Team Flare!"

Speechlessly, Xandra took the ribbon, holding it in her hand in lieu of pinning it to her shirt.

"I'm so proud of you all," the professor told them sincerely, "On behalf of the entire Kalos region, I'd like to say..." And he flung his hands out, beaming. "Thank you!"

Did she have to give a speech? She couldn't remember if she had to give a speech - and even if she did, the figure making his slow way down the red carpet had driven all words from her mind.

Professor Sycamore, following her wide-eyed stare, turned with a faint frown and then stared himself.

"Battle with me," the immortal giant said hoarsely, and she found herself stepping forward as if she was a toy being controlled by some far-off puppet master.

"Why?" she asked, very softly.

"I want to know what a 'trainer' is," he said simply, and released a Torkoal.

Xandra was silent as she battled, Adrien knowing what to do with the orange smoking thing, Ursula picking up precisely which moves to use against the Sigilyph and the Golurk that he sent out next. No, it was not a hard battle - but the expression on AZ's face had moved from quiet determination to equally quiet relief, and that, she thought, was enough.

She smiled, nodding her head in acknowledgement, and he smiled back.

"Thank you very much for battling with me," he told her softly, "Now I finally feel free... Free from the part of me mired in sorrow - the part of me that built the ultimate weapon."

"It's okay," she said with a smile, "It's gone now. It'll never be used again."

But he had stopped listening.

From the sky, from the clouds and almost from the sun itself, a little black speck was emerging - an odd and unexpected Floette, white and blue and clutching a strange red and black flower almost larger from itself. Three petals extended out at equal angles, a central spike jutting up, and AZ was reaching his large hands towards her with his eyes wide and body trembling, and Xandra realised that, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the Pokemon that AZ had committed mass murder to save.

There was a clunk. AZ had crumpled to his knees.

"Floette," he whispered, "My Fleur, my Flora, my precious petal. It's been three thousand years..." And he began weeping, huge wracking sobs of undeniable relief and joy.

"His Pokemon was waiting all this time," came Professor Sycamore's voice from behind her, soft and awed, and she started. "Waiting for him to return to the man he was before. The man who loved Pokemon with all his heart."

And Xandra, speechless, could only watch the reunion going on in front of her.

Team Flare had been stopped. The weapon that had caused so much pain had been prevented from ever doing so again, and now laid buried and broken under tons of rubble that the Geosenge local council really wasn't entirely sure what to do with. And the Pokemon who had inadvertently started all this, dying and being reborn, the one who had caused the weapon to be created in the first place, the one who had fled, unable to accept that her beloved friend had become a monster, had returned.

She had returned, and the world had come full circle.

Closure at last.

 

She had returned to Vaniville Town a hero, somewhat happier than the last time she had been there, joined by Yves and Shauna (who had decided to visit, having seen her father in Snowbelle just recently). Trevor had stayed in Lumiose City, his parents having finally returned, and Tierno was staying at Trevor's place, and the five of them had promised to meet up in the next few days.

Now, though... now, after being treated to a superb dinner by Yves' parents, they found themselves in a circle (well - a triangle, really) in his bedroom, a plate of fries in front of them and flutes of cheap champagne in their hands (no one would really raise an eyebrow if the saviours of Kalos had a celebratory drink even if they weren't eighteen yet, would they, Yves' father had said with a smile as he had handed them the bottle), some band playing on the stereo and a few of the smaller Pokemon (Alanna and Jacques; Shauna's Delcatty Felicia; Yves' Flareon Gaspard, who was busy staring curiously at Alanna, his Meowstic, Basile, and his starter, his Greninja Mathieu) scattered around.

"- and Mama said that she's going to give me her Clefable. Her name is Estelle, and she should be a good addition," Yves was explaining, a smile on his face. "Actually, I still really need something that can take on water if I'm going to challenge the League again, but Albert could learn some electric moves through tutorial machines. Absol are very versatile."

"Sounds like a plan," Xandra murmured, wincing as Alanna stepped on her ankle as she tried to make herself comfortable in her trainer's lap. "What will you do afterwards?"

She had explained the process to them, by now - it would be good for Yves to know what choices laid ahead. Shauna had already declared that she had no such interest in challenging the league herself - indeed, the last badge she had actually got had been Korrina's.

Yves, for his part, just shrugged. "Start a Dark gym, maybe? I already have two - although I'd have to get a lot at different level ranges, and Albert and Mathieu would already be too high-levelled. Especially Mathieu, he's the strongest of the team." Mathieu, cross-legged on Yves' bed, broke from his bored meditation to give them a little wave.

"I didn't think of that," Xandra murmured. Then maybe she could join a gym... pick a type, start getting a range of Pokemon at different levels... "Well, that's all in the future."

"Which we now _have_ , thanks to Xandra," Shauna said fiercely, grabbing Xandra's hand and giving it a squeeze. "And you too, Yves! And -"

"And you, Shauna," Xandra added before Shauna could name anyone else that wasn't her, an amused smile on her lips. Shauna, she had learned quickly, tended to praise others readily and herself infrequently at best, and she had spent many of their early encounters trying to encourage her. "We wouldn't have got through that door without you, remember?"

"Oh, well." She flushed. "That was really because of the thing Clemont gave me -"

"Which he gave to you because you're awesome at puzzles," Yves pointed out, reaching out to set his hand on both of theirs. Xandra glanced down at them, struck by the colourful range of their skin tones - Yves' pale against her dark, Shauna's a comfortable middle between them.

They complimented each other well, she thought vaguely, then shook her head and put it in words. "We all contributed. I don't think I would have got down to the chamber without Yves backing me up, and Shauna, you got us in there. We _all_ did it."

Shauna's lip wobbled, and she promptly grabbed the both of them, nearly knocking the champagne flying. "You guys!" she wailed, burying her face against the crook of Xandra's neck. Xandra chuckled despite herself, reaching up to muss up Shauna's hair.

"We should head out," she finally said, glancing at Shauna, who was staying at her place that night. "It's getting kind of late, and we should set out for Lumiose tomorrow - see what the Professor wants to give us."

Yves nodded solemnly to both of them, raising his glass. "Well, here's to an interesting future," he told them, and they raised their glasses as well.

"To the future!"

 

"So what are you going to name her?"

Carefully placing the Pokeball on the tray to be digitised and stored in the PC, Xandra let out a little shrug, smiling faintly as the information came up on the screen. Ralts were cute Pokemon, and while she was a little stunned that the _Champion herself_ was giving her both a daughter of her Ace _and_ a Mega stone, she wasn't completely sure if she would fit on the team.

Renard and Ursula and Alanna covered both her types, anyway, and even if they didn't... who would she even replace? Every member of her team was valued, a part of her chosen family.

"Maybe I'll give her to Mama," she shrugged, then paused. "Although, she doesn't have a Mega Ring... I'm not sure."

Shauna had a spot vacant, didn't she? And she was sure that as one of Professor Sycamore's students, she would probably qualify for getting a Mega Ring.

Fidgeting with her own bracelet, half hidden by her coat sleeve as it was, she shook her head. "I don't know, but we'd better get going. We're supposed to meet Professor Sycamore at the station."

Yves nodded, shouldering his bag again. "Sure. Shauna's probably already talking his ear off about the cutest Pokemon he's seen," he said with a smile, and the two hurried out of the Centre to make their way to Lumiose Station.

It was Sina and Dexio, though, who spotted them first, hurriedly slipping them discs made to fit their Pokedexes. "Got to run, but these are updates for the Pokedex database. You should have about six or seven regions in there after you install these," Dexio explained quickly.

Sina elbowed him gently. "There's a lot of Pokemon there that aren't native to Kalos at all," she added, "But some people can trade internationally. There's a swap centre in central Lumiose and in Kilou--" And she stopped suddenly, clapping her hands over her mouth but her eyes showing that she was hiding a grin. "I mean - you'll see!"

With that cryptic message in mind, they departed, and Yves nudged her as he spotted the professor, Shauna already waiting beside him. They both jogged over, Xandra apologising for their lateness even as they drew nearer.

"Not to worry!" Professor Sycamore said, waving a hand. "I just wanted to give you three passes to Kiloude City - it's a city in southern Kalos that's the perfect place for trainers looking to sharpen their skills. Here are your rail passes!"

He handed them each a plastic card, the crest of the Kalos National Railway on it. "It's a high-speed train - use them in the orange machines over there. Once you scan them, the gates will open and you can board."

A new city? Xandra had told her mother she would be gone for a little while, and so she nodded, a hint of a grin on her face.

"This could be fun!" Shauna exclaimed, nudging her, and Professor Sycamore chuckled.

"I'm sure it will be. Have a fantastic time!" came his call as they made their way to the machines, ready for a new adventure.


	8. Mirror Coat

**Chapter 7 - Mirror Coat**

It took roughly four seconds after the TMV train had pulled away for Augustine's forced cheer to drop.

He had not been able to tell them. He had invited them to Lumiose City and he had not been able to tell them what they so desperately needed to know, what the scanner he had held in his pocket both now and during the parade had confirmed again and again. How could he have, though? This was something usually outside the realm of human experience, something no one, especially not a teenager, should have to deal with.

Lysandre, still hidden away in his apartment above the laboratory, had barely come to terms with it himself, and he had been the one to cause it in the first place.

The boulevards that rang in a ring around Prism Tower, marking the boundaries of Lumiose City's most developed areas, were a good long walk, but even the quarter length circuit from the station to his office would get him there a little too quickly. Instead, he headed north, past the Battle Institute to take the street heading to Jeume Plaza. From there, he would make his way to Centrico Plaza then meander down Vernal Avenue. He could do with picking up some more supplies at the Herboriste, at any rate, and the walk would do him good.

He had been... very reclusive of late, he thought ruefully, hands shoved in his lab coat pockets as he meandered up North Boulevard. Aside from his battle tests with the children, the parade itself (nearly all of the planning had been done from his office), a cursory grocery shop, and his visit to the station just now, he had spent nearly all of his time inside the labs - either in the laboratories themselves downstairs, or in his own apartment with Lysandre.

And while things were becoming a little more comfortable around Lysandre (he had, for instance, given in and joined him in the only bed, pointing out that, quite frankly, his back could no longer tolerate the sofa), it was hardly restful at home. He felt like he was constantly on his guard, unable to relax, unable to sleep very well knowing that someone he cared for more than he should have had tried to destroy the world and him with it.

The incident with the knife had, at least, shown him that Lysandre did not want him dead. But not even Augustine was so blind that he deny that anything was wrong with him.

At Centrico Plaza, he hesitated for a moment, and then turned purposefully and made for Lysandre's cafe. The base beneath now empty and abandoned, the cafe had been closed pending... well, pending whatever was to be done with it. The problem was, in planning to destroy most of the world, Lysandre had been quite neglectful in leaving a will in the case that he turned up dead.

Resting the tips of his fingers against the door, a police sticker crossing the glass, he wavered. What was he doing here, in front of an empty cafe turned laboratory turned mad scientist lair, not even able to go inside for his favourite coffee in all of Lumiose City?

"Great evil was done from here. But it was also a place of companionship."

Augustine started badly, spinning around with his hands raised automatically, pausing only when he saw who, precisely, had spoken. AZ was gazing at the shop front with a pensive look in his eye, his beloved Floette settled on his shoulder, clutching her flower in her tiny hands. She, too, looked thoughtful.

AZ was gazing at him like he was as transparent as glass, like every thought was visible in his eyes as they crossed his mind. Augustine was not quite sure he was comfortable with that idea, and after a moment, the giant immortal's gaze slid away.

"You and Lysandre. You were..." He paused for a moment, mulling over the words. "...Companions."

Caught unexpectedly, Augustine nodded once, his throat tightening.

Making a thoughtful noise, AZ tipped his head once. "This was a place where you spent much time together," he said, a statement and not a question, and Augustine nodded again.

And then, because he could not restrain the words any longer and unable to see anyone else in the alleyway, he burst out, "He's still alive. He's... like you. And so are some of the children and their Pokemon."

And AZ only nodded once. "I know."

"Then what do I _do_?" he burst out. "I have someone who tried to commit genocide smuggled away in my bedroom, and three kids and eleven Pokemon - oh, Arceus, make that fifteen once you include Lysandre's - who don't even know what's happened to them!"

Augustine was not a short man - the only people he had met who were taller were Wulfric in Snowbelle City and Lysandre himself. But AZ's gaze, neither judgemental nor understanding, simply penetrating, was leaving him feeling like a small child, perplexed and upset upon being left on their own on the first day of school. He felt naked and exposed, and a chill ran through him.

AZ did not answer at first, and Augustine found himself theorising wildly - perhaps, after three thousand years, his thought processes had slowed to match his lifespan. Perhaps immortality did something to the human brain, and in time, Lysandre's rapid-fire thoughts would slow to a glacial rate. Perhaps that was a little uncharitable - perhaps he simply wanted to think over every possibility before speaking, knowing that he had the luxury of time to come up with his ideas.

The vague thought that the kids would become superb scientists with the ability to watch over things for a very long time did cross his mind.

"They should know," he finally said. "It took me years to realise that time had frozen me in place. And then I wondered what had happened and why. It took me even more years to learn what the weapon had done when I had fired it. It took me more years after that to realise that it was permanent. You should not force them to wait those long years. I am grown, and Lysandre is grown. The young ones are not. They will realise and then they will hate."

This was the longest speech Augustine had ever heard from AZ, in the... all of three encounters they had had thus far, and it took him a moment to gather his thoughts enough to answer them.

"How?" he said quietly. "I don't think there's a particularly good way to say, 'Guess what, that scheme my lover had to force immortality on you so you would see the world decay and die actually worked!', is there?" And then he felt his face colour, because he was not entirely sure he had wanted to reveal that particular aspect of his relationship with Lysandre to AZ.

Still, in the three thousand years he had been wandering the Earth for, AZ must have seen some interesting things, genocidal boyfriends amongst them, for he barely batted an eyelid. "The best way would be straightforward. They know what Lysandre aimed to do. Tell them he succeeded. And tell them that he apologises for it." His canted his head to one side. "Even if he does not. Although, it would be good if he does."

So on top of explaining to three kids and their rather powerful Pokemon that they were now immortal, he also had to convince Lysandre to apologise. Nothing too big, then.

"If they want to talk to you," he asked suddenly, "Since I don't exactly have many immortals in my social group to get advice from, how will I find you again?"

Half expecting a horribly cryptic, 'I will find you - probably when you least expect it', he blinked at the answer he got instead, staring down at the paper in confusion, a Holo Caster name and number jotted down. AZ gave him the ghost of a smile, perhaps guessing at the cause of his confusion. "Lysandre tried to ruin everything. That does not mean that he is not gifted at creating communicative technology. I will stay in touch."

Nodding dazedly, Augustine shoved the paper in his pocket and hurried away, head down, this time making straight for home. Lysandre was, more or less, where he had left him when he had set out - seated at the table, a book of crossword puzzles and a mug of tea in front of him, his Pyroar curled up in a sleepy pile of fur at his feet (Augustine wasn't too worried about this latter part - he had left David, his Blastoise, standing watch along with Pierre).

"Good afternoon," Lysandre murmured, glancing up curiously as Augustine pulled the other chair up to the table and dropping his head on to his arms. "Did you complete your errands?"

Augustine made a non-committal sound, lifting his head again. "I sent the kids away for some time in Kiloude City," he told Lysandre, his voice only a little distracted, half his mind still on the conversation he had had with AZ. "I'll give them a few days. And then, when they're back, we are all going to talk."

And, he hoped, not have things blow up spectacularly in his face.


	9. Rain Dance

**Chapter 8 - Rain Dance**

"Rotation battles are _rough_."

Xandra chuckled as Yves dropped himself down on a convenient bench, something that he was probably hoping was a frown but was actually closer to a pout on his face. They had discovered the Battle Maison that morning, and, by now, had given it a good shot - she had already discovered that Luc, Renard, and Adrien made for a superb team in the Singles division (even if a few types gave them trouble - nothing the three of them had could stand up against ghosts or fellow psychics, that was usually Ursula's domain), and had tried out Triple battles just once.

Yves had jumped almost immediately to Rotation battles, and, apparently, it was not as easy as the types she had tried. "It's sort of like a Triple battle, right?" she asked curiously.

Reaching for a Pokeball and releasing Basile (the Meowstic blinked a little, then waved, and Xandra let out Alanna and Jacques for the young psychic to have someone to talk to), Yves grimaced. "Sort of. You can choose four, and you send out three, and they stand on this..." He made a vague hand gesture. "Rotating platform thing. You can rotate it any direction, but so can the opponent, and it's hard to predict what they're doing." With a sigh, he stared glumly at Mathieu's Pokeball. "Mat was about to wash away this Talonflame when they rotated into their Maractus, the water _healed_ it, and then it knocked Mat out in a single hit."

"That sounds complicated," Xandra murmured, recalling the Triple battle she had tried - at least the targets tended to remain the same. "Still, you're a good trainer! I bet you'll be beating them in no time."

Yves chuckled a little, shaking his head. "I'm no match for you. Even after Albert Mega-evolved, Luc still beat him in, like, a second."

She shrugged, a little embarrassed at the memory - there was almost guilt there, guilt for defeating Yves so often when he had wanted to be a great trainer the most out of all of them. "He had a type advantage," she murmured, "If it had been Albert against Renard, Albert would have won like that."

"Maybe," he said with a shrug, stretching his arms over his head. "Want to go for a walk? We can take the long way back to the station, the train isn't due for another hour."

"Sure." Alanna and Jacques following close behind, both chatting silently with Basile, Xandra started down the path. "I think it's going to rain soon. We should be back at the station by then, okay? I don't really want to get the late night one or spend another night here, that hotel is really expensive!"

Nodding fervently, Yves shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. This could be a good place to train, but you'd have to have a lot of cash."

"And here I was wanting that coat from Boutique Couture," Xandra said with an exaggerated sigh. "Not even my winnings from the entire Pokemon League covers that damn thing!"

"What? No discounts for someone with the Honour of Kalos?" he teased, glancing up as a fat raindrop landed on the path ahead of him. "Ah - great. We'd better get to the station." Recalling Basile, who had shrunk against his leg as soon as the rain had begun to fall, he turned in that direction. Xandra followed suit and recalled her own two (even if Jacques looked like he wouldn't have minded a bit of rain), hurrying after him.

By the time they had reached the station, it was falling steadily, and Xandra brushed water off her coat as she made it into the shelter. "Well, we can wait a bit here," she shrugged, finding a seat. "And then I'm going to find the nearest cheap hotel in Kalos and crash. I'm sure Professor Sycamore won't want us for too long..."

 

Lumiose City was gleaming in the rain from its streetlights by the time the TMV train pulled up at the station, the rain coming down with no sign of ceasing. "I think we should call a cab," Yves said dryly as he frowned at the rain visible from the back of the station - it wasn't the heaviest Xandra had ever seen, but it would still be unpleasant walking from the station to Professor Sycamore's lab.

"Good idea," she nodded, nudging Yves and pointing to a phone for just that purpose. Quickly, she ordered one - it would be there within the minute, and the two hurriedly made their way to the exit, staring out at the downpour until it arrived.

At least it had lessened slightly by the time they pulled up at the laboratories, and they had only got a little soaked as they hurried to the door, Xandra shielding her bag with her body and Yves giving up and using his as an umbrella. The receptionist started as she flung the door open, immediately composing herself as she recognised who it was. "Ah, you made it!" she smiled, "The Professor was hoping you wouldn't get too wet. We're just waiting on another of your friends, and then I'll show you up."

No sooner than she had finished the words did the door swing open again, revealing a completely soaked Shauna. "Couldn't... be bothered... cab," she gasped as she half doubled over, hands against her knees, "Ran for it... really wet out there!" And she grabbed one of her pigtails and wrung it out, the floor already so wet from her dripping clothes that it barely made a jot of difference.

The receptionist chuckled weakly, rising from her seat and holding a card out to Xandra. "This is a lift pass for the Professor's private apartments," she instructed. "Simply swipe the card against the reader in the elevator, then press the button for level five."

Swapping slightly intrigued looks with Yves and Shauna, Xandra approached the elevator, stepping inside (it was, she noticed, rather crowded with three) and swiping the card. "I wonder what level four is," she murmured as they rose upwards, recalling the laboratories on the second level and Professor Sycamore's office on the third.

The lift chimed gently, opening to reveal a room that was certainly cosier than the laboratories or even the office below. Like downstairs, there were a few paintings on the walls, a wall clock mounted nearby, but aside from a small square near the elevator, underfoot was carpet and not tile, and a bowl on a small table near the elevator held a set of keys, a wallet, and a watch.

Glancing down at them in surprise, Xandra found her inspection interrupted by the Professor's voice. "Ah, you're finally here," he told them as he rounded a corner, a smile on his face and his tone as cheerful as ever.

But Xandra could see shadows under his eyes, and even the cheer sounded forced, the smile artificial. She smiled back, carefully. "Thank you for having us."

"How come we're here?" Shauna piped up almost immediately, "Last time we all met up in your office, right?"

"Right," Professor Sycamore agreed, allowing a little of the tiredness to show more visibly. "But what I want to talk to you tonight is of... a sensitive nature. My co-workers have access to my office, and I don't want for us to be overheard. Would you like tea or coffee?"

Finding herself perched on the edge of an arm chair in what she supposed was the living room, Xandra found herself watching the Professor as he put the drinks together with a faint frown on her face. He hadn't seemed himself, really - there was a weariness that she had not seen before in his movements and on his face. There was nothing visibly shabby about him - aside from the lack of shoes, watch, or lab coat, he looked as put together as he would have in the laboratories - but there was something becoming increasingly worn in the way he moved.

And she had a nasty suspicion that she knew what the source of his discontent was. They had not properly spoken about the... events that had taken place in Geosenge yet, and she had gotten the distinct impression that the Professor had once been friends with Lysandre. Was he feeling guilty about it, perhaps? Did he have some new information?

Finally settled with their drinks (and a towel for Shauna, her soaked sandals left on the small patch of tile near the elevator), Professor Sycamore stared into the ashtray on the coffee table for a moment. "We need to talk," he said heavily, "About the events that took place in - when you defeated Team Flare."

So it was to be that. Xandra took a careful sip of her coffee, and nodded for him to continue.

"How familiar are you with the... powers and abilities of the legendary Pokemon Xerneas?" he asked the three of them before shifting his gaze to Xandra alone. "Xandra, I assume you still have it?"

She started, an almost guilty expression on her face. She really should have done something about the legendary Pokemon stuck in her PC... "I do, yeah," she muttered, "And it's supposed to be able to... heal things."

"More than heal things." He let out a sigh, squaring his shoulders. "When the horns on its head shine in seven different colours, it is said to be releasing its true power. The three of you witnessed that, did you not?"

Xandra nodded tersely - the sheer _power_ she had felt from Xerneas was not something she would forget in a hurry.

"It was just a moment for us," Yves said quietly, "We caught the very end of the battle - we saw Xandra capture it."

"So the three of you were exposed," he nodded, "In varying amounts, admittedly, but you were all exposed. And then, when Lysandre activated the machine at the end, this energy was activated as well."

She could almost hear her pulse. Staring at the table, Xandra almost whispered, "What kind of energy? What do you mean, we were exposed - is it dangerous?"

"It's not... dangerous, per se," he said heavily. "But yes, you were exposed. The three of you... whatever Pokemon you had on-hand when the machine was activated -" _Ursula,_ Xandra thought suddenly, _I sent Ursula back after Xerneas hurt her -_ "- and Lysandre and his Pokemon."

"What does it matter?" she said forcefully. "Lysandre is dead. That tends to happen if you drop your own stupid base on your own stupid head."

"Except when the gift of the legendary Pokemon Xerneas is eternal life," came a new voice from the door frame, and Xandra dropped her cup.

Never mind the fact that Lysandre looked about as exhausted as the Professor. Never mind that he was wearing tracksuit pants, a t-shirt, and what she was certain were the Professor's socks, and not the smart suit and bizarre metallic attachments he had last been seen in. Never mind the fact that he was supposed to be dead - a wave of almost hysterical terror had struck her like a physical blow, bile rising in her throat, a scream threatening to escape, her pulse going so fast she was sure her heart was about to jump out of her chest, a little voice in her head shrieking, _Run! Flee! Escape! Get away! He's going to kill you! Run!!_

Energy erupted at her belt, knocking her back in the armchair, and a blur of red and orange and yellow along with blue and black and cream spun into action. Lysandre didn't so much move as fly, Renard's telekinetic impulse sending him (and a flurry of paper) flying against the wall hard enough to crack a picture, Luc practically a blur to grab the front of his shirt in one paw as Lysandre slid to the ground and the beginning of a potentially lethal attack forming around his other.

"Luc!" she whispered, her voice a hoarse rasp, torn between calling the Lucario off and the sudden impulse to urge him to blow Lysandre's stupid head off.

"Xandra, call your Pokemon off!" Professor Sycamore said sharply, and she twisted around to find that he had released his own Charizard and Blastoise. Wildly, the thought that she would have to take out the Professor's Pokemon as well crossed her mind, but then she shook her head, both to clear her thoughts and to deny his request.

"Why is he here?" she whispered, barely noticing Shauna peering from around the edge of the sofa and Yves with at least four Pokeballs in his hands, posed and ready.

Sycamore glanced between the two of them, Xandra and Lysandre, and shook his head in frustration. "I guarantee that Lysandre will not harm you. Now _call them off_ , and I will explain."

Xandra bit down savagely on her lip, then finally nodded curtly, unable to trust her voice. Renard slunk back to her side, still positioned to act if necessary, and Luc, giving Lysandre a look of abject hatred, released his shirt (and gave him a good shove in the mean time) and stalked away to join Xandra as well.

"Professor, what's going on?" Shauna asked, her voice quavering and thick with tears, "Why is Lysandre still alive?" Xandra extended a hand back to her, reaching around from her spot on the armchair, and felt Shauna squeeze her hand gratefully.

Recalling his own two Pokemon, Professor Sycamore dropped himself back down in the chair, gesturing for Lysandre to stay where he was. "He is alive," he explained tiredly, "Because of the ultimate power that Xerneas possesses. It's eternal life. Xerneas has granted you - all of you, and the Pokemon you had with you as well - eternal life. Congratulations. You are now all immortal."


	10. Gravity

**Chapter 9 - Gravity**

The silence that met this announcement was almost a physical presence, one that sat on the table between the sofa and two armchairs, glaring malevolently at each party in turn. Only Lysandre seemed reasonably calm, leaning against the door frame and watching them cautiously, his gaze flickering once to where he knew his Pokeballs were resting.

"Sorry," Shauna whispered, her small voice almost unbearably loud as it interrupted the silence, "I'm not sure if I'm following. Did you say that we're - that we'll never die?"

With a sigh, Augustine sat back, staring dully at the wall. "I don't know about 'never'," he admitted. "All we have to go off is AZ - but he's already three thousand years old. This isn't exactly a well-studied area. We don't know if you'll age slowly or not at all, we don't know the effects on your Pokemon, we don't know what your injury to response will be, other than a highly increased healing factor."

From the side of the room, Lysandre called out, "When the base collapsed, I gained... well." He pulled a face. "All of the injuries you would expect from being crushed by eight hundred thousand tons of granite."

All three of the children winced; Augustine, who had seen first hand exactly what those injuries were and had heard Lysandre's first person description of them, dug his nails hard into the fabric of the chair, unspeakably grateful that Lysandre had chosen not to explain exactly what those injuries had been. Once was enough for anyone - more than enough, in his opinion.

"But you look fine now," Yves ventured carefully.

Lysandre nodded. "I was quite weak for the first few days, and I am still experiencing pain," he said calmly. "But that aside, I have recovered from injuries that would kill anyone else in an instant within the space of a week or so. Have any of you or your Pokemon faced injuries?"

Xandra glanced at her Pokemon, still refusing to look up at Lysandre, and nodded. "It's hard not to challenge the Pokemon League without injuries," she said, her voice as dry as a desert, "Wikstrom had a Probopass who knew rock moves." The Delphox winced a little as he rubbed at his arm. Still, there were no injuries to be seen there - he had clearly not suffered badly. "Malva's Pyroar electrocuted my Lapras and her Chandelure burned him. Siebold had a Gyarados who froze my Roserade pretty badly. Drasna's Dragalge tried to poison my Sylveon, so did Diantha's Hawlucha."

"And did they heal quickly?" Lysandre queried, and, silently, she nodded.

"My entire team got knocked out by Siebold," Yves contributed as well, "And they're all healing pretty fast. Except..." He frowned. "Except my Altaria, he's still pretty beaten up. I found him on route twenty-one after..." He waved a hand.

"Oh - were your Pokemon knocked out by his Gyarados?" Xandra asked, her tone somewhere between innocent and defiant. "They're horrid. I've never trusted people who have Gyarados - or Pyroar, for that matter."

Ignoring the scowl on Lysandre's face, Augustine turned to her sharply. "Xandra, please do not make this any more difficult than it already is," he groaned. "I asked you all to come here so you could know the truth and so we would work out what to do next. And quite frankly, if you and Lysandre are going to be around for the next few thousand years, it would help if you could speak civilly towards each other."

She said nothing to that, simply reaching up to scritch behind her Delphox's ears. And even that was a challenge - she was using her Pokemon as a barrier between her and Lysandre, a subtle message that she would have her Pokemon defend her if he put one toe out of line.

"Will you allow him to come and sit down?" he asked her patiently.

"If it at all helps," Lysandre called wearily from his position, "My Pokemon are in another room, you've already defeated me three times and Aug-- Professor Sycamore twice, and the three of you most definitely outnumber us."

Xandra nodded once, drawing back in her armchair to physically distance herself. Shauna, on the other end of the sofa, scooted closer to her friend, leaving Augustine to take a seat in the middle. Yves, in the armchair closest to where Lysandre was taking a seat, did not look overly thrilled about this, but at least he wasn't showing the open hostility that Xandra was.

Lysandre sat, and Augustine bumped their feet together in a brief apologetic gesture.

"I suppose," he started slowly, "There is one possibility - we could released Xerneas and simply ask it to reverse the... effect. There certainly wouldn't be harm in trying. But if that doesn't work, you're going to have two main problems, and three for Lysandre. The first is what will happen if people find out, which means you will have to hide the fact that you're not going to age. You may need to work out alternate identities, possibly disguises - especially Lysandre. You may also need alternate identities, and it's possible that you will have to travel if people realise that you're not ageing."

Xandra's lips twisted, her fingers stilling in her Delphox's long fur.

"The other problem," he said softly, "Is how to cope with family and friends. I do think you should tell Trevor and Tierno - if nothing else, they at least know what you faced. But I think you should work out what to tell your families, and... make arrangements for staying in touch if you _do_ ultimately leave."

Another silence, although thankfully not one as oppressive as the one from earlier, settled with this announcement. All three looked troubled - Shauna staring at her hands, Yves absently biting a nail, Xandra resting her head against the Delphox's shoulder. There was some communication going on, the familiar vibration in the air that he felt when he communicated with Pierre himself, and he left them to it, instead peering at the other two. "What were you planning on doing now?" he asked them, almost by way of conversation.

"Train to beat the Pokemon League, start working in a gym, and work my way up," Yves said stiffly, and Augustine tried not to sigh. That was an obtainable dream, yes, but it was one that would take years, and his youthful appearance would not be convincing forever.

"I wanted to travel," Shauna piped up quietly, swinging one foot, "But maybe I should wait to do that - it won't be weird if I look like a kind of young twenty-year-old or something, I can change my hair and clothes, but it will be weird if I go overseas for five years and come back looking exactly the same. Maybe I'll go back to school."

He nodded, not entirely sure he wanted to picture how people would react to such a young-looking student if she did continue on. "And you, Xandra?" he prompted gently.

"I don't know," came the curt answer.

Letting out a sigh, Augustine nodded once. "Alright. I think it would be a good idea to contact AZ and get advice from him - admittedly, it's a very different time now than when he had to face this, but I think it would do you - _all_ of you," he added, with a pointed glance at Lysandre, "To listen to what he has to say. And I can get in contact with Diantha and ask what your legal options are - if you don't mind me disclosing this to her? She is completely trustworthy, though - she's one of my closest friends."

He received a handful of nods, none particularly enthusiastic.

"What about you, Lysandre?" Shauna asked tentatively, glancing past Augustine to peer at him carefully. "The Professor said that you need to think about other things..."

"Ah." Reaching up, Lysandre rubbed at his eyes. "I need to work out what I would be charged with, if they knew I was still alive and of my... condition. And I would need to work out if it would be better to remain dead in the eyes of the law - and then there is the matter of what happens to my family name, my assets, my laboratories - the legal one and the, ah, not as legal one - and the cafe."

Augustine nudged him, hard, and Lysandre let out a slight grumble. "And - yes, to contact a psychologist," he muttered almost shamefully. "And in the mean time, I will have to remain hidden here - if I do eventually reveal myself, I will have to move away to avoid Augustine being punished as well."

"Won't that be really crowded?" Yves asked with a frown, "I mean, if there was a wanted fugitive sleeping on _my_ sofa, that'd make it really hard for relaxing and stuff..."

"On the sofa?" Lysandre asked blankly, "No, I am not sleeping on the -"

Augustine kicked him in the shin. "The arrangement is our own business," he said coolly, trying valiantly to ignore Shauna's eyes going wide in realisation as she stifled a giggle, and Xandra's mouth making a small 'o' of surprise. "We will work something out eventually."

Ignoring Yves' perplexed expression as he glanced between Augustine and Lysandre and the girls, he stood suddenly, gathering up the cups he had collected earlier. "Well, I think it's time for you to head off," he told them hurriedly, "You can go get some dinner and rest at the Pokemon Centre, it's not too far off, and the rain has stopped. We will reconvene in a few days and see if we can get Xerneas to change all of this back, and no one will be any wiser!"

The kids stood, Xandra reluctantly recalling her Pokemon, Shauna giving Lysandre an uncertain smile, Yves still looking confused. "We'll see you later, Professor," Xandra told them, leading the way to the elevator and hitting the button. It opened immediately.

"Good, good," he said absently. "Take care, now."

And the elevator door slid shut, cutting off Yves' confused, "But why wouldn't he be on the -" as he did so.

Deflating almost immediately, Augustine trudged back to Lysandre's side, dropping himself on the sofa next to him and letting his head fall against his shoulder. "I suppose that could have been better," he murmured, his searching fingers finding Lysandre's hand.

"I suppose," Lysandre replied, and closed his eyes.


	11. Geomancy

**Chapter 10 - Geomancy**

The forests of southeastern Kalos seemed to be an appropriate place to release a rather literal force of nature, and two days later, three teenagers, a professor, and a fugitive found themselves gathered under the trees. Xandra had at least three of her own Pokemon out, standing side by side and solemn along with Shauna's Chesnaught Fariha and Yves' Greninja and Absol. Renard was sticking to her side like glue, Luc and Jacques a little distance away, and all three were regarding Lysandre with distinct suspicion.

Not that she blamed them, of course - she was doing much the same. Even with his hair cut short and dyed brown, brown contacts in his eyes and his beard shaved off, and a change of clothing (charcoal grey trousers, white trainers, and a blue sweater over a white button-up shirt; Xandra was almost positive that Professor Sycamore had picked them out for him), there was still an aura of menace around him, and she found herself wondering just how the Professor was able to stand side by side - or more - with that man.

For she was almost certain she had guessed their relationship by now, and she had found herself both furious at and sympathetic towards Sycamore. How could he have trusted him? And yet, how must he have felt when Lysandre did what he did? She remembered how... almost broken he had seemed in Couriway, his cheerfulness a front, and could not help but wonder how much of that same cheeriness she had seen since he had first sent those letters out was false, as well.

Still, if all went well today, perhaps he would have a reason to be at peace. If Xerneas was willing to reverse what it had unwillingly done to them, then they would go back to normal, Lysandre would go to jail (or a closed psychiatric ward, since she wasn't quite convinced he was in his right mind), and life would continue as usual.

Yves could strive for championship. Shauna could travel. And she could... work out something to do, she was sure there had to be _something_.

"Well," Professor Sycamore said uncomfortably, "I suppose there's no time like the present. Go ahead, Xandra."

Nodding tersely, she removed the Pokeball from her belt, drew in a shaky breath, and triggered the release mechanism. The customary flash of light, though, was this time accompanied by a wash of power so potent that it threatened to overwhelm her; she could see the other Pokemon trembling.

"Xerneas," she whispered.

The legendary bowed its head, the antlers a faded blue instead of the glimmering glow amongst the gleaming gold she had seen in base, and for a moment, she quite forgot how to speak. It seemed quiet, now - composed and calm, not even giving Lysandre a second glance. (And there was a question in that, as well - like how he had managed to find it in the first place - but that, she decided, could wait.)

"Xerneas," she repeated, her voice only moderately shaky, "Do you know what has happened to us?"

It gave her a careful look, and then nodded once, a gentle dip of the head. From next to her, Renard, half quaking in his fur, confirmed that it did.

"Then," she gulped, and sucked in air. "Then - you know that we're... like this... because we were exposed to your energy, right?"

There was another quiet confirmation, both from Xerneas' single nod and Renard's nervous translations. Yves made a little sound, then thought better of it, drawing back.

So if it knew, then maybe it could reverse it. She smiled tentatively. "Could we ask you if - if you could reverse it? We - none of us, we - we shouldn't be like... this. We're supposed to have just... regular lives, not... well... eternal ones."

This time, Xerneas simply gazed at her, some thought process going on. Beside her, Renard was quiet, faint confusion radiating off him as he turned to her. _I am not believing Xerneas knows what you mean!_ he explained, broadcasting to the group as a whole, _Xerneas feels..._ And then, in lieu of words, a rush of feelings and emotions - confusion, surprise, a touch of disappointment - a sense that something that was a great honour was being rejected.

"Please!" Shauna burst out, taking a few quick steps forward. "Mister Xerneas - or Miss Xerneas - or... I don't know. Xerneas, I know it's a gift you gave us, but it can't be ours! We're not meant to have it... please..."

Xerneas shook its head pityingly, and then turned and began to walk away. And something in Xandra's mind flashed red - it could _not_ walk away, not like this, not with them still stuck in this manner!

"Xerneas, stop!" she ordered, raising the Pokeball. It did, and this time, the look in its eye when it turned back to Xandra was not friendly. "You have to fix this - we can't accept your gift, please take it back!"

Something in the air itself crackled, and Luc and Jacques immediately moved to step in front of her. Xerneas recoiled slightly, perhaps sensing the metal coating of Luc's bones and the poison sacs behind the deceptively beautiful flowers sprouting from Jacques' hands, and the air stilled again.

And then it turned to Renard, staring at him as if it was pouring its soul into him.

An eternity seemed to pass before it released him, Renard dropping to his knees and curling up in a shivering ball against Xandra's leg. Suddenly afraid, she dropped a hand to his head, settling between his ears; he peered up and let out a soft whimper.

 _Xerneas is..._ A fierce flash of anger, and she winced. _Xerneas says you must release it or it will make you. Xerneas says you should accept the gift if life. Xerneas says you must never order it again. Xerneas won't..._ His thoughts trailed off, apparently not even wanting to think it. _Xerneas will not help us._

She nodded, fumbling for the case in her bag and slipping him a mint Poke Puff to calm him down. And then she turned to Xerneas again, smiling tentatively. "I'm sorry I ordered you," she said, trying to stop her voice from shaking and not exactly succeeding, "But - we shouldn't be like this. I'll release you if that's what you want, but - if I do, will you still help us?"

It shook its head again, but this time, it was with something more approaching... sympathy? No, pity. It pitied them, and, reluctantly, Xandra fitted the Pokeball to her Pokedex, scrolled through to the listing of available Pokemon, selected Xerneas, and let her finger hover over the Release button.

"Will we ever see you again?" she asked it forlornly, "In case you change your mind?"

It turned to Renard again, and with a little whimper, he translated it - _In a thousand years._

Silently, she pressed down on the Release button. The Pokeball made a sharp cracking sound and fell away from the notch in two halves, and Xerneas dipped its head in acknowledgement.

Not a single voice interrupted the silence as it turned to walk away, and it wasn't until it was out of sight that Xandra moved - sinking to her knees, Renard wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her upright, pressing her face against his fur.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

She had failed to convince Xerneas to help them. They would be forced to live forever - a thousand years at the very least - until they could see and maybe convince Xerneas again, and she did not know what to do.

A hand slid into her field of vision, and she accepted it gratefully as they pulled her to her feet. Only once she was standing did she realise the hand belonged to Lysandre, and she yanked her hand back as if she had been burnt - but the man only gave her an inscrutable look, shook his head, and returned to Professor Sycamore's side.

"It's not your fault," Shauna said softly, approaching tentatively, slipping her arm around Xandra's waist. "So don't blame yourself, okay? Legendary Pokemon are..." She shrugged helplessly.

"I guess if it saw eternal life as a gift, then asking for it to take it back would be... insulting, or something. I think it let me catch it because it knew what would happen if I didn't, but it didn't want to be confined to a Pokeball or just..." She shook her head. "It's like a spirit, isn't it? It's not meant for one person to possess it."

"Not even those like you, who have the best intentions," Lysandre said soberly, and Xandra briefly considered ignoring him, a scowl crossing her face. "And as for myself, I am astonished I wasn't gored on sight."

"It's not like that'd do anything permanent," Xandra snapped back, then bit her lip, shaking her head but unable to bring herself to apologise. "Never mind."

There was another uncomfortable silence, interrupted by Professor Sycamore sighing. "I don't think there's much else we can do here," he told the little group, "If you recall your Pokemon, Pierre will start transporting us back."

A teleporting Pokemon was handy, Xandra thought tiredly as she collapsed in one of the Professor's armchairs, Shauna biting her lip before perching on the arm of the chair. "I guess that could have gone better," she said quietly, "I didn't convince it of anything and now it's gone." Shauna gave her an awkward half hug.

"It's not your fault, okay?" she repeated, "And I'm gonna keep saying that until you believe it! I mean, it's like... super old, and I think it's the only one, so it can't really understand that it's bad if your friends and family get older and die and you don't -" She cut herself off them, the words coming to a choking halt. "I mean... we have to just... work out what to do next, and do it, and maybe a good idea will show up eventually, right?"

"Right," she repeated faintly, Yves and Lysandre popping into view, Lysandre hanging well back as Yves joined them.

"We should go back home," he said softly, "And just... work out how to tell them. How about we go back to Santalune City together? Then Shauna can cut through routes twenty-two and twenty-one, and we can head back south..." His expression twisted a little. "I don't want to teleport back. I want to work out what to say, first."

Xandra nodded absently, the idea of going home with friends at least a little bit welcoming.

They said their goodbyes to the Professor, who at least looked as solemn as they were feeling, said rather more awkward goodbyes to Lysandre, who they now seemed to be stuck with, and departed the building, heading back towards route four. It would be a good few hours to Santalune City, and they would spend the night there before going their separate ways, to an uncertain future and unsure reactions from their families.

The future seemed to be written in stone by Xerneas, and they would see it every step of the way, no deaths for them other than the deaths of everyone they loved, every second stretching into minutes and hours and days and weeks and months and years, the years potentially as innumerable as the stars.


	12. Future Sight

**Part Two  
Downward Spiral**

**Chapter 11 - Future Sight**

_Two Months_

Two and some months of nothing but crosswords, sudoku, kenken, and whatever puzzles the newspapers chose to toss up were beginning to get on his nerves.

Augustine had decided, for whatever the reason, that the only part of the newspaper that Lysandre would be allowed would be the puzzles, the comics, and the television guide, perhaps assuming that actual news would send him off on another genocidal rampage. And perhaps there was some truth in that, in that at least it would verify to him that he had done the right thing to try to purify a horrendous world, but the end result was that he was bored, restless, and had moved on to completing crosswords in around three different languages.

"Thirteen-letter word in Unovan Ingrand," he said without looking up as the elevator chimed, "For someone who watches bird Pokemon. Second letter is R, fourth is I, eighth is L, eleventh and twelfth are I and S. 'Ornithologist' fits, but that is blatantly incorrect, they _study_ bird Pokemon." He sniffed bitterly. "Terrible science, but I would expect nothing less from a region that produced that Timegate Traveler schlock."

Augustine did not answer, and Lysandre glanced up curiously, his expression closing up as he recognised who, precisely, was standing there - Xandra, looking uncertain, looking like she had just been caught preparing to flee.

"Professor Sycamore said I could go up," she said awkwardly, shifting to her other foot. "I have to talk to you about something."

Lysandre set down the crossword and straightened up, his hands folded neatly. "Is that so."

Over the past few months, they had rarely spoken, if they had seen each other at all - generally only when Augustine wanted to check up on them, or when they had found some interesting Pokemon specimen and they had deemed the office downstairs to be uncomfortable. Never before had any of the children specifically sought him out, and Xandra was the last one he would have expected to do so - while the boy at least tried to be civil and the younger girl was unfailingly friendly to most people, this girl seemed to loathe him with a deep and abiding hatred.

Which, he supposed, was fair. It had been on her that the burden of stopping him had fallen.

She drew in a breath, then hurried to the table, taking a seat at the opposite end. She could barely conceal her hand twitching towards her Pokeballs, and he followed her movements carefully as she reached into her bag.

Instead, it was a stack of paper that she withdrew, sliding them across the table. They caught on the edge of his newspaper, and he reached for them curiously.

"And for the record, I thought _Un Souvenir Inoubliable_ was fantastic and you shouldn't bash all Unovan cinema," she said coldly. "Read those."

Lysandre took one look, immediately recognised the letterhead and layout, and his eyebrows rose up to his hairline. "Where did you get these?"

"Your labs," she said curtly, "The secret level. I've been working with a detective to try to stop a crime spree of Pokemon thefts, and we traced it back to _your_ laboratory, with _your_ creepy minion brainwashing teenagers and forcing them to steal."

Unable to really disagree with the assessment that Xerosic was creepy, Lysandre made a non-committal reply, reading further, his expression becoming more and more put out as he did. So he had actually gone ahead with it?

Between this and his activation of the weapon despite Xandra's correct choice, he was starting to feel less that charitable towards Xerosic. The man was a genius, but he was now feeling rather grateful that they had not actually succeeded - the idea of having to spend an eternity with _him_ was one that turned the stomach.

Finally, he reached the end, setting them down with a sigh. "What do you want me to say?" he asked Xandra calmly, lifting his head to lock his gaze with hers.

"Is this on your order?" she said bluntly. "He did give himself up, and he's going to jail for a long time, but is this something you were going to do from the start?"

"I have nothing to do with this. Believe it or not," he added, raising an eyebrow, "I knew of his plans, but I ordered him not to go ahead with it. It had nothing to do with our goals, and I certainly did not give him authority to continue using the laboratory."

She gave him a hard stare for a moment longer, then relaxed a little, sitting back. "I believe you," she said grudgingly. "I don't know _why_ , but I do. Do you know what's been happening with the other Team Flare members, or do you want me to fill you in?"

Sitting forward just a fraction, he regarded her with interest before nodding once. "I would. I, ah, have not been able to read the newspaper properly."

"Aside from unscientific crosswords." There was a hint of a smile on her face for half a second before it disappeared again, and Lysandre stifled a chuckle at her own seeming stubborn refusal to show any sort of warmth towards him. "Well, you know what's happening with Xerosic. The one with the purple hair -"

"Celosia," Lysandre supplied -

"Right, her - she got caught about a month and a half ago, and the one with the green hair who was with her at the Pokeball Factory turned herself in right away after that."

Lysandre nodded, unsurprised by the turn of events - Celosia and Bryony were generally joined at the hip, and he had wondered about the nature of their relationship in the past. "Bryony. And Mable has the blue hair, and Aliana, the ginger."

Xandra nodded, seemingly satisfied by that. "Aliana was arrested as well, a couple of weeks back - she had been hiding out somewhere, but I guess the person hiding her got a guilty conscience or something because they turned her in. Mable is still at large, and they're concentrating on looking for her - Bryony is helping them, apparently."

She paused to catch her breath. "The admins and grunts are a bit harder, since there was a whole lot of them and we don't know all their names. But some have reformed and are living pretty normal lives, I've met some. They recognise that what you were trying to do was really wrong, and they've vowed to change. A whole lot have been arrested as well, and some are still at large. I've been working with the police to identify some of them."

Arrested, in hiding, or integrated back within society. Lysandre tried to muster an emotion about this, and found himself unable.

"And," Xandra added, suddenly looking exhausted, "Malva, of course, is still in the Elite Four and is reporting the evening news. No one knows about what she's done except for me, Looker, and her butler, and he used to be one of you lot anyway. But Looker says that she agreed to help them in exchange for all... that staying hidden, so I'm going to keep quiet."

"It's appreciated," he said, almost as tiredly. "Malva truly believed that what we were doing was for the best - that the world is corrupt and that drastic measures must be taken. But perhaps she will find better ways to do this."

But still, it grated. There was just so much of it - so much poverty, so much greed, so much hatred, so much pollution. The wild areas of the world were shrinking drastically, the numbers of both humans and Pokemon swelling out of control, some species becoming prolific while others, rarer, more fragile and more delicate, were rapidly going extinct. What would this girl say if he had told her that in fifty years, there would be no more Lapras? (Save for her own, of course, gifted with the same eternal life they all had.) What would she say if she could see the slums, see children squabbling in the dirt for a mouldy end of bread, see Pokemon becoming ragged and thin as their food began to diminish?

He had been idealistic once. He had wanted to save the world, and he had found that the world was singularly unwilling to be saved, that they were selfish and demanding. If that was the case, then wasn't it a reasonable and firm response to reduce the numbers of those living in the world?

"What would you do?" he asked her suddenly, genuinely curious. "You know my reasons for acting. What solution would _you_ take?"

She looked startled at that, astonishment in her dark eyes. "I -" she started, then shook her head. "I don't know - it's a really big question, there's probably not just _one_ answer -" Biting down on her lip, she added softly, "I know there are huge problems. I'm not as naïve as you assume I am. But I also think that there _are_ solutions, and..." The smile she offered him was crooked and tentative, but present. "Well, I guess we have time now, huh?"

He had been an optimist like her, once. But he would not contradict her now - she would have abundant time, all of the time in the world, to learn that she was wrong. "We do," he nodded, "One can only hope that we do find a solution before it's too late."

Sitting back, she sucked in a breath. "Well, we're halfway through the school year, right? I'm going to take a few months off, but Shauna and I only have our brevet - well, I have the equivalent of it - so we're going to get the baccalauréat then go to university. I might study ecology."

He managed to quirk a smile at that. "A good choice. I myself chose to study biology, and eventually biocommunication as my specialisation - the study of how individuals and populations communicate. That is how I met Augustine, in fact - he had already completed his doctorat and was working under my own doctorat mentor and eventually worked with me more directly, he had done study abroad in Sinnoh and people were already saying he would be the next foremost expert on Pokemon in Kalos, we were both incredibly young for our relative positions..."

He was only twenty-two, a prodigy who was already starting the highest level of education (given the two years off he had taken from his schooling to do the rounds as a trainer). Augustine, just three years his elder, had done something rather similar, propelled through the ranks of the Kalosian educational system until he found himself in a position to help supervise his first student (unofficially, strictly speaking - a junior lecturer was not going to be the sole mentor of any doctorat student). It had been a fortuitous meeting - he could not imagine his life without Augustine now, and he imagined that he would have spiralled downwards ever quicker without his calming and optimistic presence.

If anyone was going to convince him that desperate measures were not the correct ones to take, it would be him.

The fond smile that had formed unbidden on his lips faded as Xandra stifled a smile of her own, her expression slightly incredulous - as if she could not believe she was getting educational advice from, well, someone from whom advice should have been somewhat suspect. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, "Just... you care about him, don't you? A lot."

He nodded once, not bothering to deny it - most likely, she had guessed long ago, given that she had been to the apartment more than once and had not once seen any evidence that he was sleeping anywhere other than Augustine's bed. "I do, yes."

Her smile, this time, was a little on the sad side. "Then don't hurt him. Okay? He could have left you there under the rubble, but he took a chance and brought you back so you could have another chance yourself. And he's a really nice guy, but I think he trusts you _way_ too easily, so... try not to hurt him."

"You have my word," he murmured, and she looked visibly relieved as she began to gather her things. And that, no matter what promises he had broken in the past, was one thing he would never do - Augustine trusted him when no one else did, had stood by him even as his behaviour alienated friends and companions, had been a rock - even if a depressingly naïve and overly trusting one with terrible taste in cigarettes, at times - for years but especially for the past few months, when nightmares made him jerk awake at night with a barely suppressed scream, clawing at the rocks that were no longer crushing him, soothing him with calm words and gentle touches.

No, he would not hurt him.

She departed, and he sat back with his terrible Unovan crossword, managing the briefest of smiles over the first civil conversation they had ever had.


	13. Magic Room

**Chapter 12 - Magic Room**

_Seven months_

"Wonderful! I am so grateful I was able to be your opponent today! My dear Yves, would you mind coming this way with me?"

Numb, scarcely believing what he and his team had just done, Yves tripped his way after Diantha, the Pokeball containing Estelle clenched tightly in his hand. Who knew that Clefable could learn ghostly moves? And, for that matter, who knew that a Mega-evolved Absol could make good use of electric moves sufficiently well to take out a Gyarados?

Still, he had made it, mostly through a number of utterly unlikely circumstances and a good dose of luck. And now he was headed to...

"Here we are!" Diantha announced, her voice soft to match the solemness of the chamber. "I'm so glad to welcome you in. This grand chamber is where you enter the Kalos region's Hall of fame. This is where Pokemon Trainers will live on forever, remembered always for giving their all in battle to the Pokemon League and for the glory and light that they shared with all. Come, Yves - your love for your Pokemon, and the way that those Pokemon gave everything they had in battle for you... we'll record them all right here for eternity." 

Trying not to let his hands tremble too much, Yves carefully set his Pokeballs in the six notches of the tray, watching as the images of his Pokemon - well, generic images, the preloaded ones did not account for individuality - flashed up on the screen. They flashed gently, and then let out a chime, his name appearing on the screen.

And, directly below, were the words, _Admitted to the Hall of Fame._

It felt good, he wasn't going to lie. Returning his Pokeballs to him, Diantha turned to him with a gentle smile.

"Well, you did it!" she said encouragingly, "What will you do next? Do you want to take a position in a gym and work your way up?"

There was a part of him, a very loud and insistent part, that wanted to scream that yes, he did, he wanted to work in a gym and be a gym leader and be part of the Elite Four and become the Champion. But he also knew that that would take years, if he ever made it in, and there was a very long waiting list to go before he would even get anywhere.

And if he did become the champion in ten or more years, and he still looked seventeen, what would people say then?

So, reluctantly, he shook his head. "No, I'm actually going to go travel for a bit," he said softly. "I'm going to challenge the leagues in other regions - Tierno and I are leaving for Unova the day after tomorrow." Managing a bit of a grin, he added, "I just wanted to beat the Kalos league before I turned eighteen - and that's tomorrow."

"Oh, happy birthday!" she cried, clasping her hands together, and Yves found himself caught up by her genuine excitement. "How wonderful! Defeating the Kalos Pokemon League, becoming an adult, and going on an adventure, all in just a few days! And Unova, you say? Oh, you simply _must_ challenge the Nimbasa City Gym, my good friend Elesa is the leader there - she was my mentor when I was starting out with some modelling over there, so elegant and gorgeous!"

He chuckled, shifting to his other foot. "Yeah, I'll go there. Tierno is going to be based in Castelia City, so I'll probably start with that gym and do Nimbasa next."

"Excellent," she laughed, half-turning and gesturing for Yves to follow her out, "She probably won't unleash the Emolga on you if you cover her gym second."

Unsure what they were other than probably an electric type (although the name did ring a faint bell - he would have to ask the others, see if they had seen one), he simply nodded.

He had made it, had managed the last thing he desperately wanted to do before leaving - because leaving was, he thought, the best way to continue being a trainer without arousing suspicion. He could pass for twenty or twenty-two easily enough and simply say he looked young, keeping his own name and own Pokemon. Later? Later, he could do that again, yes - but his Pokemon were registered to him and him alone, and it would be... suspicious if someone showed up twenty years down the track with precisely the same Pokemon and precisely the same face.

He would decide what to do later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy his time with his Pokemon while he was still legally able to.

And then Diantha turned to him with a very serious expression on her face, and abruptly he realised two things - one, that she was Professor Sycamore's closest friend (he wasn't sure 'friend' was the right term for Lysandre, having realised soon after that little encounter why exactly he hadn't been sleeping on the sofa), and two, that he had told her about them a good handful of months ago.

"Yves," she said gently, "I know this is hard for you, and I can completely understand why you would be reluctant to take a gym position. But once you're back from travelling, I can help you to the best of my abilities - even if I'm retired by that point, former champions still have a great deal of power. If you need new identification, papers, anything, you know you can come to me any time."

He relaxed, just fractionally. "Thanks," he said with a faint smile. "I'd really like to do the whole... gym route, but - you know, it'd be weird if I became the champion in like ten years and I still look like this, right? I'm going to travel while I can still use my own ID, and... I guess I'll think of something for when I'm back, right?"

"Of course. And we can help you all the way." Smiling, she gestured to the door, and he started when he realised they were already there. "If ever you need anything, get in contact with dear Augustine for me, will you? He'll be able to contact me in return. And, Yves?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck."

 

Late summer in Lumiose City, Yves decided, was uncomfortably and stickily hot.

Vaniville Town, further south but at least small and cool and green to compensate, was generally pleasantly warm. This, with heat rising off the roads and buildings and the sheer mass of people that called the capital of Kalos their home, was stifling, even as the sun was setting.

Still, they would be inside soon. Trevor, leading the way, was giving a bit of commentary as he guided them into the twisting inner streets between the main avenues, having never been to their destination but at least familiar with the street it was on. "- and there used to be a really good ice cream store just down there, but it closed down last year - oh, when you're in Castelia City, you have to try Castelia Cones! Apparently they shape them to look like Vanillish, which might be weird, but they're supposed to be really good and Pokemon like them too. What number did the Professor say it was, again?"

"Forty-two!" Shauna called out, and Trevor nodded, pointing at an open door a few metres down the road with a bronze 42 above it.

"There we go! I told you I'd get you there!" he proclaimed, hurrying to the door.

It wasn't much to look at - aside from the bronze letters and a small wooden sign reading _Le Doux Jardin_ , all that indicated that the place was, indeed, a small restaurant were the voices coming up the stairs, along with the scent of fresh bread and garlic. Yves' stomach rumbled abruptly.

The five of them swapped intrigued glances, then hurried down the stairs.

Downstairs was surprisingly dark, and Yves took a minute to let his eyes adjust. The entire place was lit up solely by candlelight, glimmering off the glasses and tableware, the rough brick walls curving overhead. Wooden tables were scattered around almost haphazardly, the chairs mismatched and worn smooth, clean white linen napkins bright against the surfaces.

"Ah, welcome!" the head waiter beamed as he hurried to greet them, "A party of five, is it?"

Yves nodded, about to confirm that before Shauna piped up - "Yes, and one's a birthday boy!" she said with a bright grin, pointing directly at Yves. He flushed.

"A celebration!" the head waiter beamed, "Wonderful! And how old are you today?"

"Eighteen," he muttered, suddenly uncomfortable with being put on the spot.

The waiter chuckled, reaching over to pet his arm. "Ahh, they are so shy to celebrate when they young. I will find you an excellent table."

They settled down at a long table set against the wall, the menus appearing and glasses of water filled, and then they were left alone to talk amongst themselves. "They're enthusiastic, huh?" Xandra said, trying to hide her smile, and Shauna nodded with a laugh.

"Uh huh. It's nice here, isn't it? It's super atmospheric - and a little romantic - I can see why Professor Sycamore recommended it!"

It was atmospheric and a little romantic, and Yves vaguely wondered how many dates he had brought down here. Next to him, Xandra was chuckling and whispering something to Shauna, and abruptly he realised that he had quite possibly brought Lysandre down here instead, and suddenly it was a little more awkward than he had been thinking.

With a little cough, he opened the menu, quickly scanning the pages. The restaurant seemed to focus on hearty, rustic food - there were an abundance of freshly baked breads, hearty soups and stews, and fresh salads, and he found a few likely items, scanning them carefully.

The rosemary stew with the herbed dumplings, he decided, and sat back to wait for the waiter.

The dinner was good and the conversation light, focused on what they had been doing in the past few months and what Yves and Tierno would be doing in Unova. Aside from Yves taking the gym challenge ("They've just started a fairy gym over there, it'll be interesting seeing what Pokemon they use!"), Tierno would be able to turn all his focus on dancing - a Castelia-based dance group had invited him and his Pokemon over, and he would also be making regular forays into other aspects of entertainment - trying out the musicals in Nimbasa City, and trying to get a role as an extra in PokeStar Studios in nearby Virbank City.

And back in Kalos, Xandra, Shauna, and Trevor would all be going back to school, with just one more week before classes.

It was probably a good thing, too - Shauna and Xandra would be able to just pass for young-looking university students for a few more years yet, but any later would mean that those qualifications would forever be out of their reach.

They were parting ways, he reflected as he called for the bill, and Trevor and Tierno didn't even know why yet.

Maybe when he returned... maybe when they all saw each other again, and questions would be asked about why they still all looked so young... why their Pokemon were still immature, why they seemed to be trapped the way they were... he knew that Shauna and Xandra hadn't told their parents either, and he guiltily remembered hugging his parents goodbye and promising to keep in touch when he hadn't even told them that they would be seeing their son precisely the same as he was when he left...

There were too many questions in the future, and not nearly enough answers, and as Tierno raised his glass and announced a toast, "To victories, to birthdays, and to the future!", he wondered just what future they had.


	14. Constrict

**Chapter 13 - Constrict**

_Three years_

"No, sorry, I refuse."

Shauna had her arms crossed, her lips curved in a frown, the hardest look she could muster in her eye, and a barely-restrained urge to grab for Fariha's Pokeball. The girl before her, though, barely looked quelled - instead, she raised her hands placatingly.

"No, but - look, Shauna, you look perfect for the part!" she wheedled, "You can do the whole twin tails thing, it'll be brilliant..."

"Sorry, no." With a huff, Shauna threw herself back in her chair. "It's juvenile and undignified and I don't care how I look, I'm not playing a six-year-old."

With a sigh, Lucie dropped herself in the chair beside her. "I really don't mean to go on about it," she pointed out, "But you look the youngest out of the entire production company. If not you, who else?"

"Joceline?" suggested another member of the group, "She can pull off 'cute and childlike' pretty well..."

The debate raged on, and Shauna found her thoughts drifting, a discontentment settled upon her. She had thought acting would be fun - instead, she found herself constantly cast as little kids, including boys ("You're flat as a tack! This is great, you won't even have to strap 'em down!"). There were no leading lady roles for her, no matter how good her acting skills were - not with the face she had worn for three years, barely looking like she had hit puberty.

She couldn't have been made immortal just a year or two later?

(On the plus side, and this was a minor plus side, at least it had got her _before_... certain changes. No PMS or cramps weren't a bad trade-off, although she wasn't entirely sure if that ever meant she would ever be able to have children. Perhaps that was a plus side in and of itself, though - she wouldn't have to watch her children grow up and die.)

Still. It would have been nice to have the option.

Could Xandra have them, if she wanted? She, at least, had hit puberty - but she was also lacking certain regular events, and once again, she found herself speculating how this whole thing worked. They healed quickly, and that was time sped up - but her hair had barely grown in three years (although it had grown), and that was time slowed down. (She wasn't going to complain about only having to shave her legs every three months.)

But still... but still. The benefits were a good way to think about it, but she had no choice in the matter, and that was the point of contention. Why couldn't she look her age (nearing twenty, her birthday just a week and a half away), go to bars without being constantly carded and carefully stared at, find someone she liked and was attracted to without having to worry about their taste in partners?

Looking approximately twelve was definitely not good for finding a partner who wasn't horribly creepy.

From the tower not far away from the room they were practising in, the clock struck four, and Shauna hastily stuffed her belongings in her bag, her head bowed over the opening as she forced a notepad in to the overstuffed thing. Re-attaching her Pokeballs to her belt and fastening her coat, she straightened up, muttering a vague goodbye and hurrying out the door - the air was beginning to grow stifling in there, and she longed for the cool of the snow drifting lazily through the air.

Making her way (slowly - Xandra's class was on the other side of campus, and short of her own class finishing early, she would make it in plenty of time) to the little strip of cafes the university had apparently decided were 'essential for student performance and well-being', Shauna felt herself beginning to relax a little. Snowy days were peaceful, the sound muffled and the usual crowds thinned out, and although she didn't have any of her Pokemon out (Fariha and Fenn were vulnerable to it - for all of the Goodra's affinity for rain, snow was an entirely different beast - and Felicia simply disliked getting her paws cold and wet), she was becoming calm.

It was a strange thing, being calm. Not happiness, that was far, far more rare (especially these days), and not sadness, not anger and not joy, merely... moving throughout the day, reasonably content to do the tasks set before her, but lacking any real will or motivation of her own.

She was doing her degree because she could, and because it was the best option to take at this point, where she could simply explain that she looked young for her age. Later, it would be far harder, and those qualifications would be out of her reach - this way, she would at least have something to show for it.

And if it wasn't the right thing to do, then she could take on another identity at another time, enrol in another university, and do another degree. It wasn't like it would be a 'waste of time', would it?

At the cafe, she ordered the strongest coffee she could possibly handle without turning into a jittery ball of nerves for the next six hours, sipping it slowly as she waited for Xandra's arrival, vaguely hoping she wouldn't run into Trevor instead (they were becoming increasingly distant, and she knew that Yves hadn't spoken to Tierno, still in Unova, in a while either).

Killing time. Was that what it was, filling up the days with whatever came up, so as not to face the prospect of the very, very long life still ahead of her?

Was this what it was to always be?

Xandra arrived with a swirl of snow and a Delphox practically glued to her side, hurrying to Shauna's table and shaking snow off her hat. "There's a blizzard coming in," she said without preamble, "I suggest we get some drinks and something to eat and go back to the dorms."

Shauna did a slight double-take - outside the window, the snow, indeed, was starting to come down harder. "Okay. But I'm ordering like three coffees."

True to Xandra's prediction, it was indeed starting to snow heavily by the time they reached the student dorms, Renard obligingly keeping their drinks hot as they hurried through the door. Still, there would be no need to leave for the rest of the day - they had enough food in the shared kitchen to last at least a couple of days, and the heating was rapidly melting the snow in their hair.

"C'mon," Xandra murmured absently, catching Shauna's hand and leading her back through the halls of the boarding house to their room, Renard still clutching the drinks tray. Shauna flashed the Delphox a smile, reaching up to scritch between his ears as they arrived and he set it down.

With a yawn, he curled up on the end of Xandra's bed, and she quietly let out the smaller ones, Luc, Alanna, and Jacques settling down as well. Releasing Felicia to join them (the Delcatty immediately wandering over to Luc to rub her head against his shoulder - Shauna had to stifle a laugh at the Lucario's almost panicked look), the human inhabitants of the room took a seat on Shauna's bed, sipping at their drinks.

"I really, really, really want to look my age, Xan," Shauna said tiredly, barely thinking about the words as they spilled out. "I want to be in class without people wondering if there's some weird child prodigy sitting there, and go out at night without getting asked if Mama and Papa know where their little girl is, and to be able to tell people I'm turning twenty without them laughing, and Arceus above, I want -" She paused awkwardly, then shook her head and barged on. "I want the chance of _some_ sort of love life without having to worry about whether or not the person I'm seeing is a child molester!"

Xandra winced a little at that, wrapping an arm around Shauna's shoulders. "It's not fun," she agreed, "And - I know I have it better than you, but I kind of get it. And..." With a sigh, she gave Shauna's shoulders a squeeze, and Shauna wasn't sure which one they were reassuring. "And if any of us did meet someone, we'd have to... you know. Watch them get older and die and -"

Cutting herself off, she bit her lip, her expression torn.

"I don't envy Lysandre." Watching the sleeping Pokemon, a frown crossed her lips. "It's - it would be really hard, watching that happen. I know he only just turned forty -" She felt no reason to say who had just turned forty, they both knew all too well - "But what will happen in like... another forty years? Or fifty? What will Lysandre do when he dies?"

"If he doesn't try to blow up the world again, you mean?" Xandra asked dryly. "I don't know. Maybe he'll settle down in time and we can all be freaks of nature together."

Shauna's laugh was a little too bitter, and if she had caught her own reflection and seen the little girl sitting on her bed, it would have been all the more bitter for the knowledge of how utterly mismatched her life was. "Great. We can all form some big love-in with each other. At least we'd know that no one's going to die on us."

Unexpectedly, a pair of soft lips brushed her cheek; she felt her train of thought stutter to a halt as she turned to Xandra with wide eyes. "Well... the idea kind of has merit, doesn't it?" she pointed out, a hit of redness to her dark cheeks. "I mean - not Lysandre, that'd be kind of weird. But you and me, and Yves, once he's back... I know you're not a child. I know you're brave and smart and kind and my best friend, and you are _really_ pretty. We could..." Blushing further, Xandra dropped her arm away, and Shauna suddenly found its absence crushing.

She had thought this before, hadn't she? Back in Parfum Palace, watching fireworks light up the evening sky, vowing that she would hold those memories forever?

"I guess it does have merit," she admitted with a faint smile, leaning over to brush a quick kiss against Xandra's lips before she could lose her nerve. It didn't feel bad, and Xandra squeezed her hand fondly.

"We'll work something out." With a soft sigh, Xandra stretched out on the bed, gazing at the snow falling ever more quickly out the window. On the opposite bed, the Pokemon had drifted off to sleep, only Luc watching them sleepily, looking tired and unfocused himself.

Chuckling, Shauna let herself fall back as well, her legs dangling off the side next to Xandra's. "Afternoon nap?" she murmured. "I might be nearly twenty, but you're _never_ too old for an afternoon nap."

Outside, the snow continued falling, but inside it was warm and she had her best friend beside her. Finding some comfort in that, Shauna let her eyes fall shut and let sleep take her away.


	15. Calm Mind

**Chapter 14 - Calm Mind**

_Six years_

Leaving to travel the world, Xandra decided as she gazed at the almost empty room, was all very well for those departing, but not nearly as interesting for those who stayed behind.

Having elected not to take part in graduation for their Master degrees, Shauna had left for - what was it - Hoenn, where she would meet up with Yves briefly before his return to Kalos. But Yves wouldn't be back for several weeks, and Shauna had left that morning (apologising profusely for not being able to stay longer to help pack everything up, but apparently she had got a very good deal for a flight and she had at least done her share), and, right now, Xandra was feeling the loss acutely.

Lost, and lonely, and a little worried. With all of the stress of finishing her thesis, she had found herself putting off certain requirements that she would be now facing - paying off her tuition, finding somewhere else to live, and, rather more pressingly and definitely required for the first two points, finding a job.

If the worst came to the worst, she would go back home to Vaniville Town for a while - her mother had promised her that her room would be available no matter what, and she had the keys, at least (she also knew she was due to inherit it, but hopefully not for a very long time - and they were all trying to work out the legalities of keeping a property for perpetuity as well as the awkward issue of her looking eternally seventeen). She could find a job from there, she thought vaguely, work out what to do next.

But for tonight, she felt distinctly adrift.

Managing to force all of her belongings into one bag (helped somewhat by the compression technology she had used as an active trainer), she clipped the six Pokeballs on to her belt then straightened up, surveying the empty room. There would probably be no real way around it - she did have some money on her, certainly enough for a night at a cheap hotel or a week or so at a hostel, and so she was probably resigned to shelling out some cash.

If the worst came to the worst, she could take part in some battles, maybe take up the life of a travelling trainer again. Maybe she could fight the Pokemon League again...

She wanted to talk to her mother, but she was currently in Ingrando, taking part in a charity race. She wanted to talk to Shauna, but Shauna was at the airport, waiting to board her flight to Hoenn. She wanted to talk to Yves, but the time difference meant it was quite late over in Hoenn, and it would be rude to call so late at night. She wanted to talk to _someone_ , and so, without preamble, she swung her bag up on her shoulder, turned on her heel and hurried out of the dorm.

The bus ride from the campus into the centre of Lumiose City, at least, wasn't too much, and she jumped off when they reached the corner of South Boulevard and Vernal Avenue. Drawing in a breath, she hurried in to the lab, offering the receptionist a smile.

"Afternoon, Nathalie. Is the Professor around?"

The girl (for whatever that word was worth - she was younger than Xandra, but at least looked like she had reached twenty) grinned back. "Hey, Xandra. Sure, hang on a moment and I'll buzz him for you." Turning her attention to the phone, she murmured a few words into it, then nodded. "He's just gone back to his apartment for the day, I'll buzz you up to level five."

"Thanks," she smiled, lugging her bag (even if it compressed her belongings, they were still heavy!) to the elevator. Waiting for Nathalie's call that she had access, she hit the button and let it carry her up.

It was actually Lysandre (and the scent of freshly-baked bread with a hint of garlic, making her stomach growl fiercely) who greeted her as she stepped out of the elevator, dropping her bag with an audible thump and rounding the corner. Emerging from the kitchen with a coffee in his hand and a tea towel over his arm, he nodded to her solemnly. "Xandra. Augustine won't be a minute."

"Sure," she murmured, taking a seat in her usual armchair. "How have you been? I haven't had a chance to visit lately, sorry..."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry yourself with it. Writing a thesis is rather time-consuming, and yours is of a high quality, especially given that you're writing it in your second language."

"Oh, did you read it?" she asked almost sheepishly, fiddling with a stray thread on the hem of her shirt - she had sent her first draft to the Professor a good while back for feedback, and he had asked to be kept posted of her progress. Apparently, he had shared it with Lysandre, too. "I got the idea from what you said, actually, about how cities are replacing crop lands..."

The ghost of a smile crossed his face. "And a good solution it is. Now we just have to see if anyone actually possesses the intestinal fortitude to implement it."

"Ahh, but with people like Xandra around, there'll always be those with the intestinal fortitude to do anything!" From the bedroom, Professor Sycamore emerged, fidgeting with his rolled-up cuff, heading straight to Lysandre to brush a kiss across his lips. "Sorry I took a while, I had a business meeting earlier and had to wear a suit."

Chuckling at his put-out expression - the horrors of wearing a suit, apparently - she kicked lightly at the carpet. "Sorry I came without calling ahead or anything," she returned mareepishly, "They've kicked us out of the dorms now, Shauna left this morning, and..." She shrugged, a little self-conscious.

"And you wanted company?" he suggested quietly, quirking a smile at her. "That's fine. Tea or coffee? Lysandre's just finished making garlic rolls, but, quite unfortunately, he says they have to cool before we can eat them."

" _Yes_ , Augustine, and I will definitely notice if you've been picking at it."

She huffed a laugh. "Just water's fine. Thanks."

Clearing his throat, Lysandre straightened up. "Well, I have an appointment," he murmured, starting for the spiral stairs that had been installed a few years earlier, leading to what had once been a storage room on the level below but which was now a place for Lysandre to retreat to. "I will return in an hour or so. _Do not touch the garlic rolls, Augustine._ "

Xandra raised her eyebrows as he departed, mouthing, "Appointment?" to the Professor as the sound of footsteps on metal stairs rang out.

Professor Sycamore raised a finger, waited until the sound of a closing door echoed back up, then nodded soberly. "Appointment," he confirmed, ducking into the kitchen and returning with Xandra's water. "It's a neat little site I found - it's essentially anonymous therapy, and it's particularly good for people who have... well, committed crimes. I know that his state of mind does not even remotely excuse him for what he tried to do, but he most assuredly needs help. I, uh..." He winced. "Did have to tell him not to say anything that would reveal who he is or where he's staying, though."

Xandra nodded solemnly - the five scientists who had worked for Flare earlier had received sentences of a good twenty years each, and the admins that had been caught had got at least ten. Lysandre, who had masterminded the whole thing, quite possibly would have been jailed for... what was a normal human life, at any rate. "Does it help?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. He still has nightmares - you realise I wouldn't be telling this to just anyone, though, right?" he added suddenly. "I am telling you, and will tell Yves and Shauna once they return, for one reason and one reason only - you're going to be sharing a world with Lysandre for what could be a very long time. You _need to know_ what's happening to him and his state of mind, both for his own safety and sanity and for the safety of everyone else. I don't know if he'll... well, relapse at any point, or if he genuinely will recover, but 'eternal life' tends to last a while."

Staring into her glass, Xandra nodded once. The Professor wasn't saying it, but she had a feeling she knew precisely what he was thinking - that she, and Shauna and Yves, would have to be responsible for Lysandre once Professor Sycamore died.

She had read enough fiction to know the tropes and stereotypes of immortals. Generally, it would be played up as wonderful - the chance to see everything that could be seen, do everything that could be done, to have many lovers, to be an invulnerable hero for the forces of good or an unkillable villain for the forces of evil. It was very much black and white and, thus far, did not match her experiences in the slightest.

But most of the stories did, at least, acknowledge that a romance between a mortal and an immortal was generally doomed to the inevitable heartbreak.

(Well. That, or the immortal character turning the mortal one immortal themselves, although with the destruction of the weapon and the fact that she was fairly certain Lysandre wasn't actually a vampire, that, at least, was impossible.)

"Is he... okay?" she asked carefully, not quite meeting the Professor's gaze, not wanting to see the exhaustion and sadness she knew she would find there. "Mentally, I mean. I know you said he's going to therapy, but is that because he's a risk to others or because he's a risk to himself?"

Professor Sycamore let out a tired sigh, reaching up to rub his eyes slowly, a disconsolate twist to his lips. "He can't... physically harm himself, at least. But he can tear himself apart in his mind. The impression I get is that he's torn in two - he's still angry at the world, furious at it, for all the injustice it has. But he also sincerely regrets what he tried to do, and I try to encourage him to see what good _is_ being done. It's a hard balance. How are _you_ doing, by the way?" He added the last part suddenly, peering intently at Xandra.

She blinked at the sudden change in topic, mouth opening and shutting a few times. "I'm - um - okay, I guess. I mean, people think I look young, but my ID still says twenty-three, they _have_ to believe me. Um - I need to find a job and somewhere to live now, but I have to find a job that won't keep too many records or they could work out that I'm not ageing. I was thinking of going back to being a trainer." The last part was mumbled, gazing down into her glass; while she certainly enjoyed Pokemon battles, they weren't what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

To say nothing of what the Pokemon Centre nurses might realise if they scanned Renard or Luc or Alanna or Jacques or Adrien too many times.

Would they be taken away from her, dissected to try to work out what made them tick? She could far too easily picture Luc's look of betrayal, Alanna's wide and fearful eyes, and a visceral shudder ran through her body. And what if they did the same to her?

"You need to find a job," the Professor repeated thoughtfully, humming faintly. "I know it doesn't really fit with what you did for your thesis, but would you consider working for me?"

Slowly, she straightened up, ears pricked for more information.

Smiling faintly at her attention, he continued - "We have the Mega Evolution project, of course - we're trying to test synthesised stones and see if they produce the same effect as the ones found in nature. You could work with Luc there with synthetic Lucarionite - he wouldn't come to any harm," he added hastily, "The worst that could happen is that it'd fade out after a minute or two, or not work at all. Or, we have a study on telepathic communication between trainers and Pokemon - you could work with Luc _and_ with Renard and Ursula. You would, of course, be doing the research yourself, and working with other trainers and Pokemon, for both projects. What do you think?"

What did she think? She thought that it might not be a bad idea - working for Professor Sycamore would certainly simplify the process of hiding from an employer, and would allow her to keep an eye on Lysandre as well. It would allow her to remain close to her Pokemon without having to be a trainer, and it would give her a reason to stay in Lumiose City (which, honestly, she had become rather fond of, along with Kalos in general).

It did mean having to learn fast, studying Mega Evolution and telepathic communication instead of ecology and food security, but... honestly, she didn't have a great many options.

"I'll think about it," she said with a grateful smile, "I'll get back to you tomorrow, okay? And - thanks."

"Any time." Flashing a grin at her, he stood, helping her to her feet. "And, Xandra? Speaking as a researcher, congratulations on your thesis, it really is top-grade work."

Flushing with pride, she hauled her bag off the floor and slipped it on to her back, nodding in acknowledgement. "Tell Lysandre I say bye," she smiled, and headed back down to debate on which direction, exactly, her life would go in.


	16. Aromatherapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Description of suffocation and panic attacks.

**Chapter 15 - Aromatherapy**

_Eight years_

He's suffocating again.

Drowning in dust, in rock, lungs straining to draw air from something that could no longer offer it, and he reaches up to scrabble desperately at the stone, his arms barely moving, exquisite pain blooming in his right shoulder and his arm going numb, still straining desperately for escape, the nails of his left hand ripped from his fingers as he tears futilely at the rock, and the air growing thinner and thinner and his head spinning and pounding and his pulse racing but stuttered and beginning to slow, and it's not the panic coming to an end but his body dying, and he does not know whether no light penetrates down to where he is or if his eyes have been cut out, and the darkness is turning into light, growing and growing and he is not a religious man but he swears that it's judgement approaching and he knows he's no longer breathing, still gasping although there is nothing now entering his lungs but his own panicked exhalations, and he tries to breathe again and again and again and -

"Lysandre, wake up!"

His eyes shot open and he gasped, dragging in a lungful of air - clean, pure, proper, fresh air, his heart fluttering in his chest. Above him was the reassuringly familiar site of Augustine's ceiling; to his side was Augustine himself, one of his hands on Lysandre's arm from where he had shaken him awake, eyes wide with concern, a red mark blooming on the side of his face.

"I struck you," he murmured, his voice numb and flat, raising a trembling arm to brush his fingers against the injury. Augustine simply caught his hand, turning it over in his own to press a kiss against the palm, not shying from the touch.

"You were in a panic," he said simply, still holding on to Lysandre's hand. "You were fighting blindly - you weren't in control of your actions."

He nodded silently, utterly reassured by the play of light across the ceiling from the street below. Cars slid by, casting shifting shadows and highlights on the ceiling, flickering against the light fixtures and the ornate cornices of the old building.

He was five storeys off the ground in an admittedly small but roomy enough bedroom, not buried thirty metres deep; the only thing covering him was a light sheet, not hundreds of thousands of tons of solid rock; he could listen to Augustine's breathing, the sound of occasional cars outside, Incendie making little snuffling sounds near the window where the Pyroar liked to sleep the most, not the endless silence of death.

And at any rate, it was just something his brain had produced - the few microseconds before he had been crushed, before his body had died (if only temporarily). He had never experienced it like that, never experienced being buried alive, of trying to dig himself out. His injuries had been gained in an instant and were already healing by the time he opened his eyes again. It was the fever dream of the dying, a fraction of a second drawn out before the brightness grew and was obliterated as the eternal darkness took him.

The problem was, people generally were not designed to undergo that trauma and still wake up afterwards.

Augustine was still lying silently; if it wasn't for the slightly quicker sound of his breathing, he would have assumed he had fallen asleep again. With a shudder, he turned to him, wrapping his arms possessively around his waist and burying his face against his dark curls.

"Are you alright?" Augustine murmured into his shoulder, giving the slight dip in the hollow of his throat a nuzzle.

Lysandre made a non-committal sound.

People were not meant to die and then wake up again.

"I am going to go to the study," he murmured, pressing a kiss into Augustine's wild, sleep-mussed hair, and rising from the bed. He could feel sad grey eyes on him as he pulled on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt, the clothing worn and soft against his prickling skin, and turned back to give Augustine as much of a smile as he could bring himself to make. "I will just see if AZ is awake - there is no one else I could talk to about this. If he is not, then I'll return. Go back to sleep."

Augustine let out a sleepy murmur. "Don't be too late," he said mostly to the pillow, and Lysandre was almost positive he was asleep before he even reached the door.

The study, accessed by a carpeted set of spiral stairs leading down into one of the storage rooms on the floor below, was accepted to be Lysandre's and Lysandre's alone - in those first few years, minor quibbles had escalated into arguments, shouting matches that would generally result in Augustine storming out, retreating to his office downstairs for some space to cool down. Lysandre had no such option - he could hardly walk out of the apartment without instantly getting arrested. There was, however, an entire floor below the apartment that was used for storage, and while it would have been unwise to add stairs into the hall (the scientists on the second floor used this level for storage as well), there was nothing in particular to stop them from adding stairs directly into one of the rooms, sealing it up from the outside.

And so they had set this up - a private sanctuary for Lysandre to retreat to if necessary, to give them both breathing room, and for Lysandre to use if he simply felt like some time alone.

Strictly speaking, it was divided into three - the tiny room the staircase ended at had a single door which led to the larger space, and walled off in a corner was a single toilet and sink. The rest of the space featured a sofa, wide enough and comfortable enough to sleep on, a bookshelf, groaning with books, and a modest desk with a chair pulled up to it, generally holding only a lamp, a jug of water and a glass (both empty, at this hour), a thin laptop, and his Holo Caster, this one with a carefully nondescript account name and an unlisted number. His list of contacts was just six, and with Augustine sleeping upstairs, the children having never experienced death (it did not matter if they were all in their mid-twenties at this point - he still most assuredly saw them as the children), and Diantha having never experienced immortality, there was only really AZ who could answer his questions.

He was online. Apparently the older man could not sleep, either.

Setting the mode to text only, he set his fingers on the holographic keyboard, hesitated for just a moment, and typed, _When you activated the weapon, did you die?_

He waited, and then he waited some more. Perhaps AZ was not online, perhaps he had forgotten to log out...

And then came the small spinning symbol to indicate that the person on the other side was typing, a single word appearing in the field before Lysandre's eyes: _Yes._

His fingers moving over the holographic keys (not bothering with rolling out the thin mat he had developed for haptic feedback, this hopefully wouldn't be a long conversation), he hurriedly typed, _When? Was it the strike of the weapon that killed you along with half of Kalos?_

A hesitation, and then another single word - _Yes._ But the spinning icon had not yet stopped, and soon after came another reply. _I awakened to a world of dust. The thousands of Pokemon whose lives I had stolen surrounded me. Those who survived turned to Xerneas and were rescued. It left with the Pokemon. Floette went too. I was alone._

Biting back an impatient growl, he almost slammed his fingers down on the keyboard, starting to wish for the mat as his fingertips twinged. _Yes, I know about Floette. But you experienced death?_

Another single word - _Yes._

And before he could think more deeply about it, before he could regret it, the words began flowing out. _And does it haunt you in your dreams? If it no longer does, how long must I wait until I sleep peacefully? Another ten years? A hundred? A thousand? Do you still dream of your life being snuffed out? The mind is not meant to experience death and wake up afterward. How do I_

The words left unsaid, he hit the button to send his text, exhaled, and finished, _How do I make it stop?_

Arceus above, he sounded like a petulant child, whining about some unpleasant but trivial task he didn't want to do.

 _It does not ever stop,_ came the words in response, and he let out a hiss through his teeth. This was not the reply he wanted, and he raised his hands to type another reply when the next piece of text arrived. _But it does slow._

 _How long?_ he wrote.

 _I cannot say. One year is not ten years and ten years is not fifty years and fifty years is not one hundred years and one hundred years is not one thousand years. I still dream of it. But I dream of it as ancient history. It is a long ago fact that happened but cannot be changed. In time it will become ancient history for you. For now you must endure it. You are still so very young_ \- Lysandre snorted at being called young, although for someone who had seen three millennia, forty-two was practically infancy - _and so the pain is still near to you. But with time, and I cannot say how much time it will take, it will become a part of your past. The first human lifespan is the longest. The next is also long. In time, those lifespans get easier and the memories fade._

With a sigh, glad that AZ could not see the listlessness of his expression, he quickly typed, _Why do I dream of fighting through the rubble? I died in less than a second. My body and brain was crushed. There was no time to fight._

This time, the pause was longer before the spinning icon appeared. _I do not know. My death was by burning. I know it was almost an instant. My dreams are of burning alive. Perhaps the brain creates the images based on what it knows intellectually. Your dreams may not be a true memory but a self-generated nightmare._ There was an almost self-conscious pause, before AZ added, _It is hard to say. My degree in neuroscience is not up to date. It is eighty years old. Perhaps I should revisit it after I finish studying modern Kalosian dance._

Successfully startled into a laugh, Lysandre struggled to return his expression to neutral, the corners of his lips still twitching at the amusingly horrifying image of AZ in a leotard. He was going to have to share that with Augustine in the morning.

_Is that what you do? Learn new things for the sake of filling in time?_

_Of course. The time we have been given is either a blessing or a curse. I believed it to be a curse. I vowed to prove that I was better than I was. I did not believe I was defined by my past and so drove myself to atone for the sins I had committed. I told myself that if I could find a way to help others then I would be forgiven. It did not work for a very long time. When the weapon was destroyed, I could be at peace. Now I learn for pleasure. The world is a very interesting place. There is much to know about it._

He snorted, unable to help it. _Wonderful. I shall pick up my books and pencils and go sit in a lecture hall with a few hundred teenagers, shall I?_

The answer that came back was pure simplicity, leaving him feeling somewhat foolish - _There are online courses._

Too, he wasn't entirely sure why he was surprised that AZ was literate with computers and technology. Certainly, the way he phrased things was... a little on the odd side, but three thousand years would do interesting things to anyone's speech patterns. Still, being old did not automatically equal being a technophobe - AZ would have seen the invention of computers, could have been one of the earliest adopters. It would be quite interesting to see what AZ thought of the history of computing.

To say nothing of the history of most things, honestly. Quietly, Lysandre made a note to spend more time with his many-times great uncle.

 _I think I will return to bed,_ he wrote, reached for the log-out switch, and paused, adding in a, _Thank you._ And then he really did log out, shutting the Holo Caster down and sitting back in his chair.

The nightmares would not pass immediately, but they would pass - with long years, decades spanning into centuries, the memories fading as the world around him changed, as people were born and as people died, one nightmare replaced by another, a peaceful sleep at the expense of losing everything. And with that in mind, he returned upstairs, to bed and to Augustine, curling around the smaller man like he was afraid of what would happen if he let him go.


	17. Night Daze

**Chapter 16 - Night Daze**

_Twelve years_

"Well, what do you think?" Shauna asked in some resignation.

Augustine bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling, but perhaps some of his amusement showed on his face, because Shauna let out an exaggerated sigh. "It's terrible, isn't it?" she groaned, "But this was the only vacancy they had that fit, and the only one where I could use Felicia - apparently they didn't have any Battle Girl vacancies to use Fariha."

"It looks very... frilly," Xandra ventured carefully. With a grimace, Shauna tugged at the oversized pink bow in her hair.

"The illustrious life of a Battle Maison Fairy Tale Girl, huh?" she sighed, flouncing over to curl up against Xandra's side. "I still need to get to know the other three members of my team, I've been given an Azumarill and a Mawile to use. At least Alanna and Estelle know me, and I sort of know your Ralts!"

At the sound of her name, Alanna pricked up her ears, butting her head gently against Shauna's as she let out a little trill of encouragement. Shauna laughed softly, reaching down to scritch behind the long pink ears. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, I guess it's something to do, right?"

It was going to be odd for Xandra and Yves, Augustine contemplated, giving up two of their Pokemon (even if only temporarily) - technically, three, but the Ralts that Diantha had once given Xandra had waited in something like suspended animation in the realms of the PC box for twelve years, and Xandra barely knew her. Officially, they had been registered as part of the loans program for Pokemon with mostly inactive trainers to work with others in facilities like the Battle Maison, and both Augustine and Diantha had pulled in multiple favours to ensure they would only be registered to Shauna. Or, at least, to the name and identity that Shauna was using - now twenty-eight, it would have been... unusual to look so young, and so her new identity was that of a sixteen-year-old.

Still, Fairy Tale Girls did have a reputation for looking... oddly young. In that respect, it was an excellent choice, and he found himself grateful that Shauna had found something so soon after arriving back in Kalos.

Xandra seemed to be doing fine, working in the laboratories for the past six years. The telepathic communication project was still extraordinarily active, looking at the long-term bond between Pokemon and trainers who were able to communicate freely. As a trainer who had had two psychics and a telepathic Lucario for over a decade now, Xandra was a superb choice both as part of the study and to work on the mounds of data that were coming in. (Lysandre, he knew, would have been a good option as well, due to his Mienshao's use of telepathy via manipulation of Aura, but somehow, he had a feeling that it wouldn't be a good idea to enrol him.)

And at any rate, Lysandre had his own things to occupy himself - as well as studying economics part time by correspondence, he also had started an ongoing research project on the history of social justice, this time vowing to actually do something to help (without attempting to kill most life on Earth).

It was only Yves who still concerned him. The boy - no, the man, he was almost thirty - seemed to be at a loose end, using a handful of different identities to take on a myriad of roles - that of a teenage travelling trainer, that of a junior chef in one of Lumiose City's restaurants, that of an occasional Battle Maison competitor (and, vaguely, he wondered if he would end up going up against Shauna at any point).

He wished he could help him.

Honestly, he wished he could help all of them. They should have been well into lifelong careers, not finding the least obtrusive ways to pass the time and survive, and Lysandre...

Lysandre, with all his genius, with all the potential he had possessed as a younger man, should have been a leader in whatever field he chose to accept.

It was late by the time Shauna's welcome back party finished and the children (he still could not think of them as anything but) departed, leaving him and Lysandre to quietly clean up. It was a companionable silence, at least - after twelve years under the same roof and the twelve years of association, friendship, and a growing relationship before it, there was not very much that needed to be said.

Twenty-four years. Lysandre had been a part of his life for almost half of it.

But for how much longer? Frowning as he scrubbed at a stuck patch of sauce on the plate, he had to admit that he didn't know how long this would last for. He had been so young when they had met - but next year he would be fifty, and Lysandre would be eternally suspended in his early thirties.

There were already visual differences - no longer did he and Lysandre look roughly the same age. Despite the the fact that Lysandre said they made him looked dignified (with, he suspected, a hint of reluctance), there were lines in the corners of his eyes that had not been there five years ago, and he simply had to face the fact that his hair was not completely black any more.

He was growing older, and Lysandre never would. And while he at least hoped that Lysandre would be around for the rest of his life, the painful fact of the matter was that he would not be around for a great deal longer in Lysandre's life.

With a sigh, he handed the last dish to Lysandre, leaning back against the cabinets to watch the redhead towel dry it before setting it in place. "Well, that was a good dinner - thank you for cooking. So, what next?" he asked, not entirely sure if he was asking about the rest of the evening or the rest of their shared life together.

Lysandre shrugged fluidly. "It's still reasonably early. An album and a nightcap?" he suggested, prompting a smile from Augustine.

"Wonderful. Xandra gave me a recommendation the other day, I've just downloaded it."

This was easy and comfortable, at least, and Augustine busied himself with setting up the sound system while Lysandre collected the drinks. Settled on the sofa, they clinked the glasses together, and Augustine drank.

Perhaps some of his melancholy was showing on his face, because Lysandre gave him a concerned look over his rum. "Is something the matter?"

He shook his head and shrugged at the same time, gazing thoughtfully at his glass. "Just something Shauna said earlier - about how working in the Battle Maison, a position most trainers would kill for, was 'just something to do'. It's - is that what it feels like for you?" He felt, quite suddenly, vulnerable. "Are you just killing time, doing whatever you can find to keep yourself from growing bored or restless?"

Lysandre exhaled, finishing off the rest of his drink rather quickly. "You must understand," he said quietly, "When I formed _L'Ordre Sacré du Feu Purifiant_ , my plans were... ah, not the best thought-out. I had my goal and had thought of little beyond it, other than being custodians of the land and helping it heal. I had given no thought to what it would turn into as Team Flare - Xerosic's competing interests, Bryony and Celosia's devotion to each other over the cause, the various members using it to bully others instead of to purify the world. So other than my overall goal, I had had no plans for the future." He frowned deeply, the blue of his eyes dark with melancholy. "This is not the world I anticipated waking up in, and I have no idea how to plan for it. I can study things to fill in time. I can read books. But how can I make a difference? My own acts have ensured that I never _will_ be able to, or at least not for decades and decades to come, until my name and face are long forgotten. I am, effectively, in stasis."

"I wish I knew what to say to help you," Augustine admitted quietly, turning his own glass, by now empty, in his hands. "I hate seeing you so discontent."

Letting out a sigh, Lysandre reached for one of his hands, running his thumbs lightly over Augustine's palm. "It seems," he said carefully, "That my discontentment is from my own creation. I wonder then if it is to be my punishment."

"Which part?" And now his own voice was heavy with that discontentment, coloured by a tinge of bitterness. "The part where you have no idea how to handle the years ahead, or the part where you have to watch me grow old and die?"

Lysandre stilled, the motion of his thumbs against Augustine's palm ceasing and simply clinging, his head bowed. When he spoke, his voice was thick with something that he realised with a faint thrill of horror was tears. "I don't want to lose you. I can't. I - I don't know what I'll do, I can't..."

Lysandre was pleading. He was pleading, his eyes damp, and Augustine didn't know whether to feel horrified, terrified, or, perversely, a weird sense of pride for managing to get this kind of reaction out of him. His hand shaking, he raised it to rest against Lysandre's cheek, brushing a thumb beneath one eye, backs of his fingers skimming the faint freckles that could only be distinguished this close up.

"We'll think of something." Was he lying? He could not tell if he was lying. "Lys, we will work this out, I swear it. And - we should still have years, I'm not about to drop dead, I -!"

And he found himself caught up in trembling arms, a fierce grip on the back of his shirt, a face buried against his hair, pretending he couldn't hear the miserable sniff from above him. With a sigh, he returned the embrace, one arm wrapped firmly around Lysandre's waist, the other hand rubbing in soothing circles over his spine. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," he found himself whispering and fervently hoping it was true. "It'll be okay, I'm fine now..."

Lysandre's shaking was beginning to slow, and he pulled away, the same furious passion that Augustine recognised so easily (and, if he was honest with himself, was a little frightened of) in his eyes, stealing a lingering kiss with an urgency that betrayed his desperation. "I will not let it happen," he whispered as he drew back, the words falling against his lips, and Augustine knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lysandre would not rest until he could find a way to make his words true.


	18. Foresight

**Chapter 17 - Foresight**

_Fourteen years_

The storm that had slammed Kalos had been the strongest in at least thirty years, the news reports had said.

He would have been a baby then, Yves mused as he watched the report in the Pokemon Centre, and most of the trainers around him wouldn't have even been born. Never mind that - some of them were young kids accompanied by their young parents, and some of those _parents_ wouldn't have been born.

It had been a bad one, though, and no amount of years could deny that. Slamming into the northern coast of Kalos, Shalour City had taken heavy damage, including the Tower of Mastery, with the path leading up to the tower virtually gone, and the waterfront at Coumarine City had been almost swept away. There was still flooding in both cities and some of the small villages around it, the Skiddos at Baa de Mer Ranch had been evacuated, and, worst of all, at least a few people had died.

It happened all the time. He knew that. But still, there was both sadness and some weird sort of guilt that he would not ever suffer the same fate, and he had retreated to his room with his Pokemon to think.

Four of his Pokemon out and about (Christophe had been quite a bit older than the rest of the team when he had been caught and the increasingly frail Altaria was enjoying retirement at his parents' place, and Estelle was still with Shauna - and this left just the ones who had been with him for The Incident), Yves quietly filled them in, explaining that a disaster had happened and they would have to delay their return to the Tower of Mastery. Most had seemed to accept it - but Albert looked troubled as he laid himself down, one large white paw resting over the Absolite on the chain around his neck, letting out a soft whine.

"Albert?" he murmured in concern, glancing at Basile to ask him to try and work out what had caused his Absol to slip into such a funk. Was it just the idea of a disaster?

He should have realised it sooner, and he almost slapped himself when it hit him. Absol were known as Disaster Pokemon - they had the gift (or curse, honestly, but that was splitting hairs) of prophesy, able to tell when a disaster was coming. And more specifically, as well as being able to tell when disasters were coming, they were known to emerge to warn the populace of the danger they were about to be in.

But Albert had been in his Pokeball for much of the past few days...

Basile glance up, and he received confirmation in the form of a third-hand sensation of guilt. Yves winced. "Albert?" he ventured carefully, "Do you feel guilty that you weren't able to warn people?"

Hanging his head, Basile glanced between them, and confirmed _Yes_.

With a sigh, he settled beside the Absol, resting a hand gently on the thick ruff of fur around his neck. "You know it's not your fault, right?" he said softly, "For not being able to tell people? It would have been nearly impossible for people to know what you meant, Absol are becoming more and more common and aren't so much... I don't know, portents of doom... and we were in Dendemille Town, nowhere near there."

Albert turned to Basile, and the silent communication passed between them for a moment. Basile turned back. _He said that if he hadn't been with us, he would have warned people and they might have been able to leave._

Yves' brown creased. "But you lived in Muraille Coast. The west coast got slammed a bit, sure, but the worst of it was the north, and you wouldn't have been there... right?"

_He would have travelled to the north._

Something in Yves' stomach twisted. "Albert, you couldn't have stopped this, okay?" he pleaded, "It's not your fault, you didn't cause it and - and being a trainer's Pokemon means that you can't really do the stuff you did before..."

Moving slowly, Albert pushed himself up, padding silently towards Yves and settling down again, a warm presence against Yves' leg. Basile glanced at the two of them in some distress, then shook his head. _He says that..._

There was a very pregnant pause, and Basile almost trembled.

_He says that he has loved being at your side and being able to Mega evolve, but that that he would be able to help more people if he was... if he was released. He wants you to... he wants you to let him go._

 

"He wants to be released?" Professor Sycamore said dubiously, gazing down at the Absol with a faint frown. "...Well. I can understand the reasoning behind it, but the logistics could be a concern. Yves, can your Meowstic broadcast to all of us or just to you?"

Basile turned to him and promptly answered precisely that, judging from the Professor's soft, "Ah," of understanding. "Okay. Thank you very much, Basile, I may have Pierre translate for all of us, then."

The Meowstic nodded obligingly, stepping back to stand next to Yves as Professor Sycamore released his Gardevoir. With a glance, he filled him in on the situation, and Pierre positioned himself down in the middle of the little group crowded in the laboratory's office.

"Thank you. Now, Albert, what is it precisely that you want to do?"

The Gardevoir focused on Albert for a moment, then nodded. _He wishes to return to the route where he was found, see if his siblings are still there, and then go into seclusion until he senses a disaster. Then he will be able to warn everyone. He also wishes to be able to smell the fresh air and stretch his legs instead of being cooped up all the time in a Pokeball._

Yves ducked his head awkwardly - Pierre was a little more... forthcoming about any news that may have hurt his feelings, and from the mareepish look on Albert's face, perhaps he hadn't quite intended to pass on that last part of information. "Okay, that's... reasonable," he admitted grudgingly, glancing at Professor Sycamore. "Professor, why would the logistics be a concern?"

"Well, you know how Pokeballs and ownership works, right? Right now," Professor Sycamore explained, "If someone was to throw a Pokeball at Albert, it wouldn't be able to capture him, since his biomarker is already tied to another Pokeball. But if you release him and break the ball, which is what you are legally meant to do once you go through the release process, then anyone would be able to capture him."

With a frown, Yves gestured for him to go on. It wouldn't be what Albert wanted, but wasn't that a risk of freedom?

"So... let's say someone has gone for a lovely walk around Muraille Coast. They come across an Absol, decide, 'Ah! I think I'd like that Absol!', and throw a ball. And then Albert finds himself with a new trainer, who he may not be able to communicate with, and who has not realised that they've just caught themselves an immortal Pokemon." The Professor's words, starting out light, had become distinctly grim by the end of it.

"Unless," Yves continued quietly, "They had a medical check or something, and worked out that there was something weird about his ageing... what would happen to him then?"

"I don't know," Professor Sycamore said quietly, "And I don't think any of us would want to find out. Especially since they would be able to trace who his previous trainer was."

A nasty silence followed this announcement.

"Okay," Yves said heavily, reaching out to set a reassuring hand on Albert's head, "So releasing isn't a good idea. What are the other options?"

Letting out a thoughtful sound, Professor Sycamore returned his attention to the laptop, tapping something into it. He scanned whatever it was he had found, then nodded once. "There's one possible idea, although it would only work for, ah, as long as these laboratories are around. In fairness, I could leave it to Xandra, since she's working her way up here."

He hadn't mentioned that the reason it would be left to Xandra in the first place would be his death, Yves noted with a faint pang. "Would he stay here?" he frowned, "That wouldn't really work..."

"No, no, he would be free to roam," Professor Sycamore hastily continued. "The idea would be that you would trade him to me, or rather, to the laboratory's ongoing tracking projects - they're for migration, population changes, that sort of thing. He would have a Pokeball as well as a tracking key, so he wouldn't be able to be caught by others, but it would be kept here while he was free to roam through Kalos at his leisure. If anyone did try to scan him, they would find that he was part of the tracking project and leave him be - we've got an arrangement with the Rangers that we're responsible for every Pokemon in the project." A slight smile crossed his lips. "Essentially, he would be able to go where he wanted, he wouldn't be able to be caught, _and_ we'd get some science done. What do you think, Albert?"

The Absol, addressed directly, let out a little murmur, glancing at Pierre. Nodding, Pierre turned back to the two humans, confirming in quick words, _He agrees to the terms._

The smile Professor Sycamore gave them all was a little on the sad side. "Alright. We can do the transfer now, if you'd like - I have some things to check on downstairs, so why don't you have a bit of a chat beforehand?"

And he slipped out without another word, Pierre vanishing along with him.

Yves let out his breath slowly, settling cross-legged on the rug next to Albert, letting out the rest of his Pokemon to say their goodbyes. While Basile quickly filled in Mathieu and Gaspard on what was to happen, Yves considered his words, and then spoke.

"Al, I want to say thanks," he said softly. "You've been with me for almost half my life now, and I'm really glad you've had this adventure with me. You're in roughly five Halls of Fame and you helped save the world and we cracked Mega evolution together, and you'll always be an important part of my history. Thank you for being my friend." And he bent down low, pressing his forehead against the Absol's, his eyes slipping shut.

_He says thank you as well,_ Basile translated from nearby, his mental voice almost solemn. _He says you have been a good trainer and a good friend, and that if he sees you in the future, and it will be a very long future, he will say hello. Ah, and he also says to take the stone._

"The Mega stone?" Yves blinked. "Okay." Carefully, he lifted the Absolite over his head, the stone warm against his palm, and he gazed at it as Albert said his goodbyes to the rest of the team.

With a friendly headbutt for Mathieu (the two dark-types had been the closest), Albert stood solemnly, the goodbyes entirely done and just the technicalities left to go. Yves sat back and waited, and wondered how many more Pokemon he would lose before the end.


	19. Topsy-Turvy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Pokemon death (natural causes and to natural lifespan)

**Chapter 18 - Topsy-Turvy**

_Seventeen years_

"Well, from the looks of things, she reached a good twenty-five years. That's pretty impressive for a Malamar, and it looks like she's had a good life."

Xandra, gazing blankly at the small box in her hands, nodded numbly, the nurse's voice fading out into white noise. Over and over again, she could hear AZ's voice, trembling as he described how he had received a tiny box - this held a slightly different kind of content, but the meaning... that, at least, was still the same.

Sympathetically, the nurse squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. You must have been very young when she was caught."

She jerked once, then nodded, hands tight around the box. "I - she's been there my entire life," she said quietly, struggling to remember the story they had come up with. She was to be her own fifteen-year-old daughter, it wasn't unusual for a thirty-four-year-old to have a teenage daughter, not strange at all, and if her mother had caught a Pokemon when she had been seventeen then passed it on to her only child, no one would look twice... would they?

Still, seventeen years was seventeen years, and the simple fact was that Ursula _had_ been there for precisely half her life and now she was not.

It had been inevitable, though. She had known, when she had learned what had become of them, that she would inevitably see this happen to Ursula - and more than that, it was an inevitability for every Pokemon anyone ever caught. She was in an unbelievably privileged position, to not have to see the vast majority of her team die, and even with Alanna having already spent five years working with Shauna, she knew that would end up being a blink of an eye in their eventually extremely long lives.

How did AZ cope with it, seeing generations upon generations of Pokemon die? How did he cope with loss, and not just the loss of his Floette? Because now she was facing it, and despite knowing logically that this would have happened no matter what, she still could barely accept it.

Silently, the nurse returned to the room - Xandra had scarcely noticed she had slipped out - and held out a brochure, the cover in a tasteful cream, a single flower decorating it, not distracting her attention from the simple lettering that read, _Pokemon Bereavement Services_ , and, in smaller letters beneath the heading, _Strategies and Organisations to Help You Cope With Your Loss_. "I've had a few clients who have found this helps," the nurse explained gently, "There are some organisations you can get in touch with, page four has a few for Pokemon who have passed on for age-related reasons. Please don't ever feel that your loss is less valid just because your Malamar lived a natural lifespan, okay?"

Pocketing it without bothering to open it, she nodded again.

"Would you like to make arrangements for her ashes?" the nurse prompted her.

This time, she shook her head. "No thank you. My mother and I are going to take her back to route eight, that's where I - where my mother caught her. We'll scatter her ashes into the sea." A faint, sad smile crossed her lips. "I think she'd like that, going back to where she came from, right?"

"Right," the nurse echoed, offering her a gentle smile. "Please keep in touch if you need anything, alright, Serena?"

Starting slightly at the false name she was using and immediately feeling foolish for it, Xandra nodded, managing a hint of a smile herself. "I will. Thanks."

And, with just four Pokemon left, she carefully tucked the sealed box in her bag and walked away.

It wouldn't be for a few days before she arrived at route eight, the gentle stretch of coastline that made up the Muraille Coast, and a good few hours of hiking before she reached the precise spot where a curious Inkay had emerged from the grass. Once there, she let out her other Pokemon, the four standing quietly and solemnly as she reached for the box. (Vaguely and only with half a thought in it, she realised that she now just had the boys, with Alanna currently working with Shauna.)

"Ursula," she said, half to the box and half to the sea, "I want to say thank you. You were with me through some really difficult times, and I know it's been hard for you -" Her breath caught. "I know it's been hard for you, not being like me or the others, and I'm sorry if you ever felt like you didn't belong with us. I'm sorry I never got to tell you that you always were a vital part of my team, and I will always consider you to be a part of my heart."

And then she bowed her head over the box, giving Ursula every last silent thank you, apology, and wish for peace she could think of.

_It is time,_ came Renard's subdued reply from behind her - he had taken it hard, being the only other psychic of the team, and he and Ursula had spent long hours in silent conversation. Luc, too, had been close to her, but now the Lucario stood silently, watching the sea thoughtfully. _We have said our goodbyes._

Xandra nodded once, turning to face the cliff edge, waited for the winds to blow from behind her to the ocean, and opened the box.

And the wind carried Ursula away.

Xandra remained there for a moment longer, still holding the box, caught in silent reverie. She was gone, then - she would never see Ursula again, her empty Pokeball all that remained of her faithful, departed Malamar. And then Renard let out a short sound of concern - not an alarm, but an alert - and she turned her head to find a girl watching her.

"I, uh -" the girl stuttered, suddenly awkward at being caught watching, "Um, I - I - I'm sorry. Did your - did one of your Pokemon die?"

Carefully, Xandra closed the box, giving the girl a faint smile. "My Malamar. It's okay, she was quite old, it was very peaceful."

"I'm sorry," the girl said with a wince, shuffling one foot awkwardly, fidgeting with one of her braids. She looked to be perhaps fifteen, probably a brand new trainer who had only just received her starter, and Xandra had to forcibly remind herself that she didn't look that much older herself. "I've never - I only just got my first few Pokemon, a-and I don't know what I'd do if they..." She trailed off, looking embarrassed before nodding to Xandra's silent crew. "Are those your other Pokemon?"

"They are," she said reassuringly. "Renard is the Delphox, Luc is the Lucario, the Roserade is Jacques, and the Lapras is Adrien. My Malamar's name was Ursula."

Her name _was_ Ursula, she had said. Silently, she cringed at her own phrasing, and for the fact that she would forever have to refer to Ursula in the past tense.

The girl peered at her Pokemon, giving them a careful smile, then immediately flushed. "Oh - I'm sorry! I caught your eye, that means we have to battle, right? Just - I only have two, and Charlotte is still a baby and... I _think_ Flora is..."

"No, no, it's fine!" Xandra said immediately, holding her hands out placatingly. "That rule is pretty outdated, anyway. What kind of Pokemon are Charlotte and Flora?"

A grin popped on to the girl's face. "I'll show you!" she told her, tossing two Pokeballs up and releasing two very small Pokemon - a startled-looking Chespin and a curious Flabebe, clutching her yellow flower in determination. Charlotte, spotting a fellow grass-type in Jacques, trotted over for a chat. "Flora's brand new, I only caught her in the last route, and I got sent Charlotte by -"

"By Professor Sycamore?" she guessed, and the girl blinked. "I got Renard from him, too. Did you get a Pokedex too?"

"Yeah!" she grinned, "I've seen a whole lot already."

Xandra quirked a smile. "May I see?" The girl handed it over readily enough, and indeed, it looked like it had seen a bit in the earlier routes. Carefully, she entered a code, smiling as it beeped - as she handed it back, she explained, "I just updated it for you - you should have the Coastal Pokedex too, now."

"Really?" The girl's eyes were wide. "Wow, thanks! How did you do that?"

"Trade secrets!"

Laughing, the girl set it back in her bag. "Well, thanks - sorry, what was your name? My name is Annette, it's nice to meet you."

"I'm Serena," Xandra lied, a little more fluently than she had at the centre, "It's nice to meet you too - it's nice having some conversation, huh?"

"Especially after... that," Annette said awkwardly, shuffling her feet again. "Anyway, Serena, you must be a pretty experienced trainer?"

She paused awkwardly, then nodded, unable to really deny it with several fully-evolved Pokemon. "Yeah, I am. I have all the gym badges - and I tried fighting the Elite Four, but that didn't really go anywhere." That, at least, was truthful enough - she had tried fighting them, and had won to boot, she simply hadn't accepted a position with them.

Annette pulled a face. "Aww, better luck next time," she said sympathetically, "But, uh, could you tell me what the next few gyms are like? Like, should I get more Pokemon?"

"Absolutely," she said encouragingly, "There's a lot of good Pokemon on this route, this is where - ah, this is where Ursula was from. I think you're mostly set for the next two, though - the next one, up in Cyllage City, is for rock types, the leader is -" She paused, flailing slightly for a name - "Uh, the leader is a former ranger, he hasn't been a gym leader for long. You should do fine with Charlotte. To get to Cyllage, you go down to Ambrette, which is the town you can see just down there, then go along the beach. The one right after that is in Shalour City, and that's a pretty long cave route - you cross the bridge into the start of route ten, then enter these caves. You'll be in there for a while, so stock up!"

It was definitely strange to describe it thus. Even after seventeen years, Geosenge Town still remained off-limit, and so routes ten and eleven were off limits as well. The parts of the Glittering Caves she had fought through were still accessible, but the route eleven entrance was now blocked, and only those with special permission - like Professor Sycamore, and, by extension, herself - could take the former route ten path into Geosenge.

She had been, just once, on the tenth anniversary of The Events. She had not been back since.

"Down to Ambrette, across the beach to Cyllage, use Charlotte against the rock gym, then go across the bridge and through some caves to Shalour City," Annette repeated. "Okay, got it! What kind of gym is at Shalour City?"

She grinned a little at Flora. "They're Fighting types. The woman's name is Korrina, and she's pretty tough - your Flabebe should be fine, but be careful if she uses her own Lucario."

Luc, ears pricking up, let out a small pleased growl of confirmation - clearly, he remembered his old trainer and his fellow Lucario, his former sparring partner, all too well, and hopefully fondly.

"Oh, cool," Annette said brightly. "Hey, where can you catch Lucario, anyway? They're cool."

"They are," Xandra chuckled. "And there's a small population of Lucario and Riolu back in route twenty-two. That's, uh, right near Santalune City."

"Of course it is," she sighed. "Maybe I'll backtrack after I get to the next town. Thanks for all your advice, Serena!"

A genuine smile crossed her face. "Thanks for talking to me," she murmured, recalling all but Renard. Charlotte, now that Jacques was gone, trotted back to her own trainer. "I might see you in Ambrette, I'll be there tonight. But if not, good luck."

Being a trainer was a journey, but it was, at times, a long one. And as Xandra watched Annette recall her Pokemon and forge on through the grass, she wondered if all the young trainers out there knew just what they were getting themselves in to.


	20. Self-Destruct

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Description of self-harm and attempted suicide.

**Chapter 19 - Self-Destruct**

_Twenty-Two Years_

All in all, being a few years off forty wasn't a bad time to consider cosmetic surgery.

Granted, the majority of Shauna's peers who were considering it were going for a somewhat opposite look - younger, always more youthful, smoother skin, wrinkles gone, bust lifted. She, however, was considering precisely the opposite. It was alright to be short, she had decided, so long as her face (and chest) actually made her at least look like she had hit puberty.

There was the added issue, admittedly, of having to find a surgeon willing to let her go under the knife when she looked so very young, but maybe she could have passed it off as having some growth hormone issue...

Still, it was something she would have to consider. Putting her hair up, applying make-up, wearing heels, and careful use of clothing to try to give the illusion of hips (and, admittedly, padding her bra) at least gave her the illusion of being in her late teens, but it would have been nice to at least be considered as an adult without having to go through all those dramas. (Honestly, she was thirty-eight. She should not have still been stuffing her bra.)

And really, she wouldn't have been considering cosmetic surgery if it wasn't for changes taking place in the Battle Maison. Fairy Tale Girls were becoming less popular now that the initial explosion of interest in the type had started dying down, and she now had so few shifts she was actually working part time in Laverre Gym as well. The owner of the Battle Maison had been overheard talking about how he wanted an older, more sophisticated set of trainer classes. He wanted Beauties, he wanted the more mature-looking Furisode Girls, he wanted Ladies, he wanted Madames.

He didn't want little girls in pink frilly dresses.

Well, perhaps she could work as a Furisode Girl, since she already was at the gym - she would have to ask Xandra if she could keep using Alanna, maybe ask Yves if she could borrow Gaspard... Maybe she could work as a Lady, and in that case, she could keep using Felicia...

Still, it would have been nice to be accepted as a Beauty.

Letting out a sigh, she continued down the boulevard, making for the laboratories. She was due to give Alanna back to Xandra, and if the weather stayed clear, they could go out for lunch. And maybe, just maybe, they could talk about her current dilemma...

It was with some disappointment that she had learned that Xandra, along with Professor Sycamore and a few other members out of the staff, were actually out at that moment, doing some field work or something along those lines. She frowned, wavering for a moment, but it was a long trip back to Kiloude City, and she did not want to waste her day off wandering around the city.

And so she swiped her lift pass and rose to the fifth floor.

"Lysandre?" she called as she exited the elevator and shrugged off her coat, "It's just me. Are you busy?"

If, twenty-three years ago, someone had told her she would be willingly seeking out the company of someone who had attempted genocide, she would have been very surprised, to say the least. Still, age tended to mellow everyone, and that included Lysandre, who was becoming increasingly good company these days.

"Good morning, Shauna," said the would-be committer of genocide calmly, shutting down a complicated network of charts and documents hovering above his Holo Caster and turning in his seat. "Were you looking for Augustine or Xandra? They're off doing some field work in Coumarine City - the man they're working with is quite old and can't travel."

"I _was_ looking for Xandra," she confirmed, "I needed to talk to her about returning Alanna. But if they're not here, I guess I'll just have to put up with you instead, huh?"

She was smiling, though, and Lysandre chuckled a little, getting to his feet. "I was just about to get some lunch together," he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen. "Would you like something?"

"Sure. I can help, let me know what to do."

He simply nodded, filling a pot of water and setting it to boil. "You can start chopping the herbs, then," he instructed, finding several bunches for her. "Finely, but not pulverised."

She nodded in response, bending her head over the board as she focused on shredding the herbs. Beside her, Lysandre had started chopping celery, garlic, and onion, a few potatoes and a chunk of pumpkin waiting nearby, and her stomach growled faintly.

Carefully stripping the woodier branches, she began carefully chopping. "What were you doing before?" she asked curiously, recalling the complicated diagrams and charts.

He let out a little grunt, taking a knife to the celery. "An ecological report," he explained, "Looking at using individuals of the Meganium line to clean up forests contaminated by industrial wastes. If populations start developing there, they could regenerate the forest using their natural abilities - the trick is trying to safeguard them from being poisoned themselves. Perhaps a diet heavy in pecha berries."

Shauna blinked once, then nodded. "That could be interesting. There wouldn't be any way to crossbreed poison resistance or immunity in there, would there? Breed them with the Ferrothorn line - or, some Breloom aren't hurt by poison, right?"

"Right," he echoed, "The trick is that trying to manipulate typing and abilities can be hit and miss, and a natural population where some individuals are resistant to poisoning would also have individuals who aren't." He shook his head, sweeping the celery aside and reaching for the onion. "It would be very complicated work, and there are ethical issues with purposeful breeding. How has work been?" Tossing the onion peel aside, Lysandre proceeded to turn the bulb into a pile of thin ribbons with careless ease, and Shauna wondered (not for the first time) what the food at his cafe must have been like.

"Work is... work," she said neutrally. "Well, actually, work is currently _not_ working, honestly - the Battle Maison is phasing out Fairy Tale Girls, so I haven't had many shifts - at least I can spend my spare time with Xandra, but it does mean I either need to pick a new class or a new job."

He let out a thoughtful sound, crushing the garlic lightly with the side of the knife. "And what are you considering?"

"A new class," she said in resignation. "Probably the Lady one, since I can keep using Felicia for that one. I'm sick of wearing a Furisode, and I don't have enough by way of tits to be a Beauty. It would be great if I could look my age."

He hesitated once, then asked, "Do they not take you seriously as you are?"

"Not even remotely." She pulled a face. "I've actually been considering plastic surgery - some facial reconstruction to look a bit older, and implants."

He turned to her, setting down the knife, his expression suddenly terrifyingly serious. "Don't."

"Why not?" she asked hesitantly, suddenly much less certain about her idea.

"The so-called Beauty class tend to be vapid and underwhelming. They contribute nothing to the world other than their own egos, they know nothing of _true_ beauty - the beauty of conviction and honesty." The intensity of his expression faded a little, and he turned back to the garlic, pulverising it with a little more force than was strictly necessary. "You are already a beautiful young woman. You don't need to..." The knife twitched a little. "To mar yourself to fit in with a group."

"I guess," she said, subdued. Beauty was always going to be a theme with Lysandre, wasn't it? Biting her lip, she added bitterly, "I don't even know if it'd work. My body might reject any implants, and anything else might go back to the way it was. Any time I've cut myself, it's knitted back together in just a few minutes."

He made a short sound of agreement. "We do seem to have highly accelerated healing - you know how quickly I healed after..." He waved the hand that the knife wasn't in. "It seems that carries through to most other forms of harm - burns heal rapidly, toxic substances do nothing."

She pulled a face, bringing the knife down a little too hard on the board. "Yeah. Electrocution just knocks you out for a moment and gave me the worst bad hair day of my life, getting hit by a car is something you can walk off..."

Lysandre made a careless sound of agreement, then paused, glancing at her sidelong. "...You have tried, then?" he asked softly.

Twenty-two years wasn't much in the scheme of things. But she looked so young, and her future - her very, very long future - seemed so depressingly bleak sometimes, and if her experimentations, and they were indeed experiments, especially as she took care to note down what she was trying each time, just in case it _did_ work, found a way to ease the misery of the others...

Well, it was worth a shot.

She made a wordless affirmative sound, brushing aside the herbs she had just finished. "Do you want me to chiffonade the basil?"

"That would be best," he agreed, starting to heat the oil in a little saucepan, starting to chop the potatoes and pumpkin with quick, effective cuts. "May I assume that you haven't told anyone else about these... attempts?"

"Xandra would try to kill me," she said matter-of-factly, "And then we'd have to add whatever she tried on to the list, too. Yves... I don't know, I think it would upset him. I guess AZ would be okay to tell, he probably has a list of his own, but I haven't seen him in years. And I'm not sure..." She glanced down at the basil, brow furrowing as she focused on slicing them thinly. "I'm not sure I'd want to tell anyone who isn't like us. I don't think they would understand at all, what it feels like knowing that you have potentially millennia ahead of you and you have no idea how you're supposed to survive with your sanity intact. Even if we're not very old now - even if I would have never tried this if, well, all that hadn't happened - just knowing it's still ahead, facing us, is a pretty awful thought."

Lysandre nodded soberly. "I would never tell Augustine - I sometimes think he suspects, but I will not be the one to confirm it. I know it would hurt him, but I have even less place in this world than you do. If there was a way out..." He trailed off, turning to add the garlic and onion to the hot oil, a sizzling hiss rising. "I would take it. I must admit I am... very concerned about the future."

Quietly, Shauna nodded, sliding the chopping board with the chopped herbs over. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what it's like, being in the situation the two of you are in."

He didn't answer, stirring the garlic and onion, the smell wafting through the small kitchen. Still, Shauna watched his back carefully, feeling a lump of something solid and painful in her chest. She was fond of the Professor herself, certainly, but Lysandre... Professor Sycamore and Lysandre were something else entirely, and she could not imagine watching someone she loved grow old, wither, and die.

Because it would happen, and sooner rather than later. The Professor was almost sixty. That time was approaching, whether Lysandre liked it or not, whether he would be able to deal with it or not.

"We will work something out," he said distantly, "Please get the vegetable stock, it's in a labelled pitcher in the refrigerator."

She did so, sensing that the conversation was at a close. "It smells good," she said appreciatively as Lysandre poured in the stock and added the potatoes and pumpkin. "And - thanks. For commiserating."

He made a short sound of acknowledgement, but there was a faint smile there - small, but relieved, and he reached out to squeeze her shoulder gently and reassuringly.

They would find a way.

They had to.


	21. Sunny Day

**Chapter 20 - Sunny Day**

_Twenty-Eight Years_

It was a strange collection of people gathered at the side of a lake in southern Kalos on a warm early summer morning, well away from the established routes and without another person in sight.

In the water was a Gyarados, a Lapras, and a Greninja, the Gyarados putting up with the other two with some resignation, and in the shallows sat a cheerful-looking Goodra, happily splashing around with a Roserade and a Chesnaught. Further back, but occasionally ducking in to cool their feet, were a handful of others, including a Lucario, a Clefable, and a Mienshao, and hanging well back were a collection of Fire types, a Pyroar keeping a close eye on a Delphox and a Flareon, and a Sylveon, a Meowstic, a Delcatty, a Honchkrow, and two Gardevoir keeping their feet resolutely dry.

In the water as well was a girl with long brown hair pulled up high, gently splashing the Goodra, and closest to this last group were two other youngsters (a boy and a girl), an old man, and a scowling redhead.

Mostly because no matter how much sunblock he had slathered on, he was still getting sunburnt.

On the plus side, it was almost fading as fast as it appeared, but the simple fact remained that his skin was itchy, prickling, and hot.

Still, it was a novelty to be out in the fresh air, and his Pokemon were relishing the change to stretch out. While Incendie was out most of the time, the Pyroar rarely had the chance to run freely, Liberté and Pureté (Honchkrow and Mienshao, respectively) could enjoy the fresh air, with Liberté able to actually take to the skies for once, and Espoir...

Espoir, the Gyarados, had not been out of his Pokeball in a very long time, and Lysandre was honestly starting to wonder if it would be kinder just to release him.

Still, the idea was a wretched one. Espoir had been with him since he had been a child (his parents' idea of a joke, giving him a Magikarp as a first Pokemon), and although he had caught Incendie as soon as he received his trainer's license as a teenager, and although they had made up for that by giving him Liberté as a graduation gift (Pureté had arrived much later, as he had started putting his plans in motion, although he had been a part of the team now for nearly thirty years), he was closest to Espoir beyond all others.

And yet, spending all that time confined in a Pokeball...

They had swam together earlier. Lysandre knew how, but he was badly out of practise, and it had been a relief to set a hand on Espoir's cool scales and let the Gyarados guide him through the water.

Now, though, he was safely on land again (and at any rate, it wasn't as if he could drown), dried off and watching as Espoir made a spectacular leap into the air and then dive again, leaving Yves' Greninja flailing. He stifled a chuckle at the sight, taking another sip of his drink and sitting back.

"Looks like this was a good idea," Augustine murmured from beside him, his hands carefully wrapped around his own drink. "Your Gyarados looks like he's having the most fun he's had in -" Pausing carefully, he finished, "In a while."

Lysandre made a vague sound, eyes still on the Pokemon in the water. "I do wonder if I should release him," he said quietly, "In some secluded lake where few trainers come. He certainly would be strong enough to break out of most Pokeballs."

"An immortal fifty-something-year-old Gyarados," Augustine mused, "I wonder what that would do to the local ecosystem - perhaps it would be safer to release him into the sea."

He did not answer immediately. A lake was easy to access, especially with a teleporting psychic (and Pierre was in the prime of his life at only forty or so years old - he would make it to eighty easily enough, long enough to find another psychic-type). But the ocean? The ocean was enormous. No, Espoir was unlikely to ever be caught - but there was little chance that he would see him again, especially if there were rumours of an enormous Gyarados in coastal waters.

"Perhaps," he said indistinctly, still frowning.

But if he was to do what was right for Espoir, and for all his Pokemon...

"Have you considered getting more Pokemon?" he asked instead, catching Augustine shake his head out of the corner of his eye. Once, there had been five. Now, only Pierre remained - Lili had passed on a good ten years back, Gogoat not being the most long-lived of Pokemon, and his Kanto starters, Hugues, David, and Louis, a few years ago.

"No. I couldn't," he said with a sigh, "I can't give any guarantee that I'd be able to care for one for the rest of its life, and it would be disruptive both for you and the Pokemon if you had to adopt it after..." Impatiently, he waved a hand, and Lysandre's stomach instinctively tightened in a weird sort of horror at the sight of how lined and worn they were.

He hated thinking like this, despised his own automatic disgust at the sight of ageing, of decay. These days, he found it very hard to look at Augustine, expecting smooth skin (perhaps with shadows under his eyes, perhaps with the fainted of creases at their corners, perhaps with a faint scrape of stubble) and seeing wrinkles instead, expecting dark hair and seeing grey instead. There had been no intimacy between them for a very long time, now.

Perhaps it was the contrast between them - Lysandre was well aware that he now looked young enough to be Augustine's son. Perhaps, had they been given the opportunity to grow old together, he would cherish each wrinkle. But as it was, every sign of ageing was a constant and painful reminder - _he is fading away, his beauty is diminishing, I will lose him, and it will be sooner rather than later._

He swallowed hard, then glanced up, spotting Shauna emerging from the water and reaching for her towel. "This has to end," he said, clearly enough for the others to hear, and the little signs of movement amongst the others ceased. Even the Pokemon stilled.

"What do you mean?" Shauna asked quietly as she settled down between him and Yves. "I'm guessing you don't mean today's outing."

"We have been approaching... all of this," he said, waving a hand to vaguely indicate the last thirty-odd years, "As if it is inescapable, as if this was something done to us that will never cease. But _something_ put us in this position, and if something made us like this, then something else can un-make us like this. This need not be our fate. I refuse to lie down before destiny and let it happen with no word from us. _We must determine our own fate_ , or else we must give up all hope. Will we fight it? Or will we give in like cowards?"

Ringing silence met his words for a handful of seconds that felt like an eternity. And then Xandra nodded - slowly, uncertainly, but still an affirmative. "What were you thinking?" she asked steadily, barely moving as Jacques and Renard returned to flop at her side.

"It was a legendary Pokemon that got us into this mess," he explained, then winced fractionally and added, "...And, admittedly, my triggering the weapon. Does that not indicate that another legendary could get us out of this? Xerneas will not help us, but perhaps another will - I have heard stories of Xerneas' counterpart, Yveltal, a being that is the polar opposite of Xerneas. Where Xerneas grants life, Yveltal grants death."

"You want it to kill you," Augustine said sharply, but made no further comment - perhaps he, too, understood the immensity of the future ahead of them.

"Only in due time. It would be a drastic measure, but if there was a way out..."

Shauna met his eye, just for a moment, and nodded.

"Okay, so we look for a legendary to kill us all, right," Yves said impatiently, his Greninja sneaking back to listen to the conversation. "Assuming we can even find Yveltal, that's not exactly a happy ending. What if we stopped this from ever happening, instead?"

Lysandre turned his gaze to the boy (well, hardly a boy, he was in his mid-forties now) and let out a thoughtful sound. "What are you considering?"

"I've been all over the world, remember?" he continued quietly. "Kalos has its cycle of life and death, but other regions have different cycles, and different Pokemon that can be found there. Sinnoh, for instance, has three Pokemon called the Creation Trio, representing these fundamental building blocks at a level just below Arceus and created by it at the moment the universe began. Giratina represents antimatter. Palkia represents space. And Dialga... Dialga represents time. It can control it completely. It could reverse time... make sure none of this happened..."

"Finding a literal force of nature wouldn't be easy," Xandra frowned deeply, "I'm guessing Dialga doesn't make itself known very often."

Yves winced a little, nodding. "I know. I have no idea how we'd find it - I know it emerged decades ago, but I don't know if we could replicate that, I don't even know what they did." He hesitated, then added briefly, "There may be one more option."

Lysandre's thoughts were racing. Time travel... if they could reverse this, if they could reverse time back to before things went so catastrophically wrong, would that be enough? Would they be able to stop him before his previous self forced his hand? It did not seem possible, and yet it was an intriguing idea. At the edge of his hearing, he could hear Shauna urging Yves to continue.

"Celebi," Yves said softly, and Lysandre snapped his attention back to him. "I heard about it - _them_ \- in Johto, there's apparently one that's the guardian of a forest there. They appear in green, wild places, and they can travel through time as well - although I don't know if they can just move through it on their own, or if they could move people through it. Still, they'd be easier to find than Dialga - I heard a few stories about people who had encounters with Celebi while I was in Johto."

"That sounds like a plan, then," Augustine nodded, his smile just a little sad. "I think we should try to find Celebi - or Dialga, if that's at all possible - with all the effort we can muster. I'm not fond of this idea to try to find Yveltal, honestly. It seems a little too..." And he shook his head, leaving the words unfinished.

Lysandre exhaled. They had all the time in the world, theoretically, although there was definitely an urgency behind wanting to find either one - he honestly did not know if he would ever be able to handle Augustine's death. In that case, they had just years - maybe a small handful of decades, maybe only a few single years, and for all he knew, Augustine could die tomorrow from some utterly pointless and unpreventable cause.

No, he had to find them. And he had to find them fast - before the unimaginable happened, and the last of his hope died before his very eyes.


	22. Final Gambit

**Chapter 21 - Final Gambit**

_Thirty-Three Years_

He had been at the airport when he had received the call.

It had been Xandra, her voice weary, the vision switched off, audible exhaustion as she made her brief hellos - which was probably unsurprising, given that it was only around one in the morning in Kalos. She had asked where he was, pausing in surprise at the answer - "Uh, Lilycove Airport, actually. My flight back to Lumiose boards in half an hour. I'll be back by lunchtime, probably."

"You've already heard?" she asked softly.

He frowned at the Holo Caster (a much newer one than the one he had used in his youth). "Sorry, what have I supposed to have already heard?"

"Ah," she said in resignation. "Okay - what are you coming back for, then?"

Glancing around at the crowded airport, he shook his head vaguely. "I'm not sure I should say so here. I'll be back in the city around half past two, maybe three - depends on how fast I can get through immigration and customs - I can tell you then."

Immigration was always a hassle, flying with a fake identity and a fake passport. Well, technically it was a real passport, yes - it was just the information on it that just happened to be a complete fabrication. According to it, he was eighteen again, a teenager who was visiting Hoenn for the first time.

It was always a little awkward, shaving over thirty years off his age.

"What was I supposed to have already heard, Xan?" he pushed gently, and she let out a soft sigh, a rustling sound on the other end indicating that she had probably just slumped back against something.

"Mama died," she said shortly, "It wasn't unexpected, she had been in hospital for a while and... you know, it... wasn't unexpected." Yves nodded in understanding, knowing Xandra didn't want to mention that the reason it wasn't unexpected was because Grace had already reached the age of eighty-four. "The funeral is tomorrow, and - I wanted to tell you, at least, but since you'll be back in Kalos, if you could come, that would be good..."

"Oh no, I'm sorry," he breathed, closing his eyes and saying a quick thank you for both of his parents still being in good health for their age. "Of course I'll come. I - was it a peaceful death?"

She sniffed a little, but her voice was at least calm when she said, "It was. We had already said our goodbyes, and she was asleep when it... when it happened."

He made a wordless sound of confirmation, glancing up at the board saying his flight was preparing to be boarded. "Hey, I better go. I'll see you this afternoon, okay? Jetlag and all. Go get some sleep, okay?"

She laughed softly. "Okay. I'll try. See you later." There was a quick pause, and then she added, "Oh, and Yves?"

"Mm?"

"Happy birthday for yesterday."

He smiled at that, at least. "Thanks. See you soon."

Hanging up and switching the Holo Caster off in preparation for the flight, he stood, boarding pass in hand. Thirty-two years and two days ago, he had defeated his first Pokemon league. Thirty-two years ago precisely, he had departed for Unova. And now, now that he was fifty, he was returning to his homeland for at least a little while.

Glancing down at his bag, where a notebook held a scrawled set of co-ordinates and a time and date, he smiled.

It was time to end this.

 

Seeing Professor Sycamore had been a shock.

In the past few years, scouring the regions for any sign of Dialga or Celebi, he had not kept in contact as much as he should have, only sending in monthly progress reports by text or - briefly - with voice calls. His first visit back to Kalos in years had brought him back to the laboratories, still technically owned by the Professor, still with the Professor handing out starters to new young trainers (but, he couldn't help but note, minus the battling), but with the day by day operations largely run by one of the other scientists.

Now, he could see why. Professor Sycamore looked - and there was no easy way around this - old, his lined hand wrapped around the handle of a walking stick, a stoop to his shoulders that had not been there just a few years ago. He looked unwell, like he was fading away, and he could begin to understand the curdling horror he could glimpse in Lysandre's eyes every time he looked at him.

But he had found the answer. They would stop this, and then...

And then what? If it worked, they would prevent any of this from happening, and then they would _all_ have to become old.

But wouldn't that be better, more natural? To his own eyes, nothing much had changed other than the Professor. He, Xandra, and Shauna still resembled teenagers rather than a middle-aged man and two women, AZ, gathered with them for once, still resembled the gaunt-faced giant he had first seen at the parade, albeit this time accompanied by a Floette, and Lysandre was eternally suspended in his early thirties, looking nothing like a man approaching seventy.

Knowing that there were only three years between Lysandre and Professor Sycamore, and yet seeing this vast visual divide between them - perhaps that was the abhorrent part, not the process of ageing itself. He knew that was why he, Xandra, and Shauna rarely saw Trevor or Tierno, either, their fellow Pokedex holders becoming old acquaintances but no longer friends (although they still knew their secrets - they still understood, they still kept quiet). No, he could not be afraid of growing older. Because if his plan succeeded, and he would indeed hope that it would, then they would definitely find themselves ageing again.

All but AZ. Somehow, he didn't think they would be able to correct that - rewinding the clock thirty-three years was bad enough without making it three thousand years. If they wound it back that much, then Kalos as they knew it very well may not have come to exist.

And what about the time travel they were hopefully about to engage in themselves? A lot had happened in thirty-three years. People had died, people had been born, people had raised families. Technology was created, some of it terrible and some of it with the potential to change the world for the better. Surely it was selfish to erase that, to overwrite the save file, just to prevent the horror of their own lives?

But still, who was to say that rewinding time wouldn't be the best choice? Geosenge would still be standing. Lysandre, with all his genius but without having to spend thirty plus years in self-imposed house arrest, would be able to get proper help (because he was certain that he did, indeed, need better psychiatric help beyond that of what he could get online, guarding his words carefully), would eventually be able to turn his great mind to innovating and inspiring. Xandra, with her scientific smarts, would be able to go to university again, and perhaps the same ideas would arise in her mind. He would have the opportunity to see the world, to make what positive change he could, without constantly lying. Shauna would be able to find a place in the adult world without claiming to be a child, to grow instead of stagnate, to see herself as a functioning human being and not a stunted little girl.

Perhaps time would forgive them all, give them all a second chance.

"I can only assume," Lysandre began, breaking the awkward silence, "That you have found something related to our, ah - predicament."

Quietly grateful to Lysandre for starting him off, he nodded once. "I did. When I was in Hoenn, I found myself in a place called Petalburg Woods. It's in the southwestern part of the region, in between the city of the same name and Rustboro City -" He paused awkwardly, then shook his head. "At any rate, though, that isn't the important part. The important part is that when I was there, I saw a Celebi."

Subtly, the entire group seemed to lean forward.

"I explained our situation," he continued. "It wanted to know everything - how we came to this point, how this all happened to us - I apologise, Lysandre, but I had to explain everything that you had done."

Lysandre nodded once, his expression bleak. "That much is understandable."

"It wanted to know everything about us - what our lives were like, the losses we had suffered, the losses we would suffer in the past." He hadn't mentioned Xandra's mother. That, at the time he had seen the Celebi, had merely been a potential for the future. Nodding towards Lysandre and Professor Sycamore, he added, "It wanted to know about your relationship - and, well, it wanted to know how I thought you, Lysandre, would react after... after Professor Sycamore died."

There really was no point in mincing words, and neither of the two reacted much either. They had known, they had to know, even if it was almost unspoken - it was something inevitable that was becoming rapidly closer as a possibility, and if the illness and exhaustion he could see in the Professor was any indication, it was one coming even closer.

It was a subtle movement, but Lysandre bumped his hand against the Professor's, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of the aged skin.

"So," he continued, exhaling carefully and drawing in another breath, "It agreed to help - or rather, it said it would help us in Johto, I don't know if it's the same one or a relative or... anything. I have co-ordinates that will lead us to a shrine, very deep in Ilex Forest at the southern end of Johto. It won't be too hard to get to - we could get a direct flight to Goldenrod City, and then the forest is a couple of hours south down route thirty-four."

"And we'll see the Celebi there?" Shauna asked curiously, "Will it wait for us?"

He shook his head, setting the notebook he had been clutching on the table. "We have a time and a date. A week and a half from now, at thirty-four minutes past twelve in the afternoon. I think we should book flights today."

Biting his lip for a moment, a childish gesture he had mostly grown out of twenty years ago, he turned to AZ. "There's only one problem, and that is AZ's fate. It could only take us back so far. So it might be okay for us, but for you - there's nothing really that could be done."

The giant shook his head gently. "I have waited three thousand years. I know that if time changes, I will find Floette again. I know I will experience much. I do not mind continuing this life. It is a long life. But there is much I can do and learn." He smiled, a slow, cautious movement that seemed to make his entire face more gentle. "You find your own peace. I will be fine."

Lysandre gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then nodded. "You are a good man, AZ. I pray that you find your own peace, too."

Yves let his breath out slowly, glancing down at the little piece of paper with their fate so neatly recorded on it. "Then," he said softly, "In ten days, we will be at the shrine in Ilex Forest, and we will ask the Celebi to change time so none of this ever happened. Do we all agree?"

"I do," said Shauna, a smile of utter relief on her face.

"I do," said Lysandre, his expression deathly serious.

"I do," said Professor Sycamore, visibly relieved.

"I do," said AZ, his face composed.

"I do," said Xandra, her eyes blazing.

"In ten days, then," Yves confirmed. "We'll book the flights tonight. I suggest you wrap up any loose ends, because I don't know what will come next, but..."

He left the words unfinished, simply smiling, shaking his head.

He had always been told that the future was what it was, that they would simply deal with whatever they would have to face. But the past... the past was something they now had the opportunity to shape, to mould.

They would put it right.


	23. Reversal

**Chapter 22 - Reversal**

Xandra's palms were sweating.

"Is this your first visit to Johto?" the immigration agent asked, and she nodded along with Yves, Shauna, and Lysandre, only Professor Sycamore stating calmly that he had been a few times. It wasn't, of course, a very good idea to lie, and since the Professor was the only one travelling under his own name, it was probably best to stick to the truth for him.

"Right. And what's the purpose of your travelling here today?" the agent asked.

Again, it was the Professor who answered - "A vacation," he said calmly. "I'm travelling with my grandson -" Here, he put a hand on Yves' shoulder, who resembled the Professor enough that the relationship would work - "His lady friend -" Xandra flushed dully, not totally sure how comfortable she was with the term 'lady friend', even if there was some truth to it - "And their best friend and her father."

The agent peered skeptically at Lysandre and Shauna, his eyebrows raising. "You're father and daughter?" he asked, eyeing Lysandre's pale skin and blue eyes, and Shauna's darker skin and clear green eyes. At least Lysandre's hair had been dyed brown to resemble hers more; the idea wasn't completely out of the realms of possibility.

"My daughter resembles her mother," Lysandre said calmly, no hint of concern on his face. "I was invited along to keep an eye on them - it can't all be seeing the sights. We intend to actually relax."

Chuckling, the agent nodded, glancing at their passports before flipping them to a blank page to stamp them. Xandra gave the man a polite smile as he handed hers back, tucking it back into her shoulder bag. "Right, have a good trip. Make sure you keep your customs declaration cards handy for once you have your checked luggage. Down that way."

Letting out a soft sigh, they pressed on, Shauna glancing up at Lysandre cheekily. "Okay, Daddy, let's go get our things!" she grinned, a definite hint of mischief in her eyes, and Xandra stifled a laugh. Shauna had somewhat of a filthy mind, made all the more disturbing by the fact that she looked roughly thirteen, and Lysandre looked vaguely uncomfortable at the idea.

There was no need to wait at the baggage claim area - they all had their own carry-on luggage, with enough clothes for five days (the time they would be 'on vacation' for - Yves had pointed out that if what they had been planning worked, they hardly needed to bring any more), and customs was similarly a breeze, with nothing to declare. And so it wasn't before long that they were stepping out of the airport, making their way slowly through the sweltering summer heat to where they could get a lift to the hotel they were staying at for the night, right on the southern outskirts of the city and within a stone's throw of route thirty-four, all the better for their supposed trek to Azalea Town.

It was all an exercise in subterfuge that had left Xandra quite exhausted by the time they settled down in their rooms (a triple room for 'the kids' and a twin room for Lysandre and the Professor), exhausted from the lies and only wanting to rest a little before dinner and sleep. They had been lying from start to finish and had yet to stop - every passport aside from the Professor's was faked, Lysandre had dyed and tied back his hair and had trimmed his beard back to stubble, and it was highly doubtful that they would ever be seeing Azalea Town.

It was highly doubtful that the current timeline would exist a little after midday the next day, but that was a minor point, really.

They had used the rest of the afternoon and the evening to relax and had reconvened at an obscenely early hour the next morning, Lysandre's hair washed free from the dye and hidden beneath a hat. He had given up on it by the time they had started on route thirty-four, and when Xandra had asked about it, he merely shook his head. "I'm hardly likely to be mistaken for that infamous villain Lysandre, am I?" he had pointed out dryly, "After all, the infamous Lysandre is surely an old man by now."

It seemed apt, though, they they would all be facing the end as they were meant to be.

(Half an hour later, of course, he was wearing it again, summer sun and being a natural redhead being a particularly bad combination.)

By the time nine o'clock came around, they were nearing the forest and Xandra was growing worried. Forests could be difficult to navigate, and Yves had not stopped muttering under his breath as he fiddled with a GPS unit, trying to get it to guide them to the co-ordinates he had been given. They had just three and a half hours to find the shrine that the Celebi in Hoenn had told Yves to be at, and while Yves was sure they could make it if they kept up a good pace, the simple fact was that the Professor was already beginning to tire.

Xandra glanced at Renard, who she had released upon learning that the forest was inhabited almost exclusively by grass and bug types (and a few rare Zubat, which he could use his psychic abilities for), then jerked her head towards the Professor and Pierre, the Gardevoir catching the thought and nodding. And then, unceremoniously, they hoisted Professor Sycamore into the air, letting him recline back on an invisible chair.

He flailed a little, then let out a sigh of resignation, sitting back and letting the psychic Pokemon carry him along.

Now, they were making better time, and Xandra could put more attention into making her way through the forest, quietly conversing with Renard and Luc (and Alanna and Jacques, through their translations - Adrien, alas, wasn't exactly built for forest treks), three apparent 'children', two men (only one actually appearing elderly), and at least a dozen Pokemon accompanying them.

Adrien and Estelle (Yves' Clefable) were a large aquatic Pokemon and an increasingly old, frail one respectively, and they had remained in their Pokeballs. The rest... she gazed around at their little teams, and sighed.

Ursula had died. Christophe, Yves' Altaria, had followed suit about ten years back. Nearly all of the Pokemon the Professor had had when they had first met had passed on, only Pierre remaining. Albert and Espoir had been released. Shauna had kept the team she had started with, at least, her Goodra still in good health despite his age (dragons being particularly long-lived), but nearly all of them had suffered losses.

But there were still those who remained, and those who remained were with them until the very end.

A Delphox, a Lucario, a Roserade, a Sylveon, and, in his ball, a Lapras. A Greninja, a Meowstic, a Flareon, and a Clefable. A Chesnaught, rounding out the Kalos trio of starters, and a Delcatty (trotting close to the Lucario), a Goodra, and a gifted Gardevoir. A Pyroar, sticking faithfully to his master's side until the end, a Mienshao, a Honchkrow (carefully flying overhead, snapping at bugs). And another, older Gardevoir, diligently carrying his trainer to whatever end they would find.

It was definitely an odd little collection that was making its way through the forest, and Xandra hid a smile even as her watch ticked over to twenty past twelve.

Barely a minute later, Yves stopped short. "There," he said softly, raising an arm and pointing through the trees, "About three hundred metres that way. We're nearly there."

And not a minute too soon, Xandra thought with a sigh as they picked up the pace, a little wooden shrine emerging. Yves glanced at his watch again. "We have a few minutes left," he said in some relief, "We made it, everyone."

Xandra sagged a little in sheer relief, finding a comfortable rock to sit on and grateful, just for a moment, that her joints weren't actually that of a fifty-year-old's. "So what happens now?" she asked the group at large as she fumbled to release Adrien, gazing at Shauna leaning back against Fariha, Yves pacing, Lysandre helping the Professor find a seat. "I mean, how is this going to work? I assume that the Celebi will rewind time - or will it take someone back?"

Yves frowned. "It said that we should all be ready," he shrugged, "I guess we'll have to ask it when it arrives - two minutes, now."

With a nod, Xandra resumed her study of the area. Was it her imagination, or were the trees leaning in subtly? They seemed ancient here, withered and covered in moss, the shrine similarly covered. Wildflowers covered the ground, and what little of the sun could reach into the little clearing sent dappled patterns across the mossy, flowered forest floor.

One minute.

What would happen next? Would they find themselves in the past, as they were? Would one of them be sent back? If one was, what would happen to the others? Would they remain, or would that timeline simply fade away, something that never happened?

She had too many questions, and - she glanced at her watch - twenty seconds until she could get her answer.

Xandra drew in a breath, held it, and let it out. She breathed in again, held it, and let it out - and then drew it in again a little more sharply than she had expected when she noticed the Celebi sitting quietly on top of the shrine, as if it had been there all along.

Perhaps it had.

It surveyed them all, and she could feel the familiar prickle of a psychic scan, too used to it from Renard (and, in the past, Ursula) to be very bothered by it. Evidently, it didn't mind what it saw, for it alighted into the air, hovering just before Yves.

_Hello again,_ it said, a smile on its little green face, flitting over to Shauna and then herself for a greeting. She returned the smile, finding the little legendary cuter than she had expected. _Ee hee hee. Thank you!_ it giggled, and she flushed, the others looking a little confused.

Eventually, it made its way over to the Professor (settled on a fallen log) and Lysandre (standing behind him), staring at both with something resembling fascination. And then it nodded, pointing one chubby arm at Professor Sycamore. _You'll go,_ it proclaimed confidently.

Yves frowned slightly. "Um, Celebi," he asked cautiously, "Sorry, but... why the Professor? He's..."

_It's okay, he'll be able to handle it!_ Celebi explained with a smile, zipping closer to Yves. _It must be him - all of you have been chosen by the Being of Eternal Life, we do not interfere with the others. He is the only one I can help._

"The Being of Eternal Life - Xerneas?" Xandra asked curiously.

It nodded once. _The Being of Eternal Life has already claimed you,_ it clarified helpfully, _So I can't touch you, but I can touch time lines. You should say your goodbyes! I will take this one back to the right time, and I will make sure that he will not disappear until things are irreversibly in motion to fix things._

"And the rest of us?" Shauna blurted out, "What happens after you take him back?"

Celebi considered for a moment, gazing at the Professor. _If he does not succeed, then nothing will happen. If he does, this time will fade. It will not be for nothing,_ it added suddenly, turning to Yves, who blanched. _This new time will have so many new opportunities. It will be a time of greatness! You should say goodbye now._

Exhaling, the Professor slowly got to his feet, his expression resigned as he turned to Xandra, Yves, and Shauna. "First, I want to say thank you do you all," he said softly, his voice cracking a little. "You have all been wonderful, wonderful friends over the years, and I am incredibly glad that I asked you three, and Trevor and Tierno -" Xandra felt a sharp pang, she hadn't actually kept up with them very well - "To start on your journeys. I know it has been a hard one - but I vow to put things right. You all deserve happiness, and I swear I will fight for your right to have your own lives."

Next, he turned to Pierre, setting a hand on the Gardevoir's narrow shoulder. No verbal communication was needed here - there was a moment of prolonged eye contact, and then Pierre took a step back and bowed deeply.

And now Professor Sycamore turned to Lysandre, and Xandra could see indecision, sadness, perhaps a hint of resignation warring in his eyes. "Lysandre," he started softly, then stopped short as Lysandre stepped forward and embraced him without hesitation.

Xandra glanced away as the Professor let out a quiet sigh, letting his head drop to Lysandre's shoulder, his arms slipping around his waist even as Lysandre clung to him with something almost resembling desperation.

And while she could look away to give them a modicum of privacy, she could not turn her ears off.

"Remember," Lysandre whispered fiercely. "Remember, no matter what, no matter how in deep I am when you get back - remember that I could never hurt you. Remember I will never intentionally cause you pain. Remember the knife - you can use that. Bring me back from the edge."

The knife? Xandra glanced at Shauna and Yves, Shauna shrugging, Yves shaking his head once.

"I'll save you, Lys," Professor Sycamore said almost inaudibly. "I promise. I love you. I promise."

And then he stood, head held high even as his shoulders stooped, his eyes clear, resolve written on his face as he turned to Celebi. "I'm ready," he said once, and Celebi floated back through the air towards him, setting a hand on the Professor's forehead.

It closed its luminous blue eyes, bowed its head, and murmured something that Xandra could not make out - and then there was nothing left to hear at all as the world went white.


	24. Double Team

**Part Three  
Level Ground**

**Chapter 23 - Double Team**

_Back Again_

It really should have just been like any other day.

Alone in his office, the sunlight streaming through the window, feet covered in bright red socks up on the desk as he whistled along to a song on his stereo and a book in his hands, Augustine Sycamore was in a fine mood. He had put the laptop to sleep and had set his Holo Caster to silent a while back, wanting to dedicate the proper amounts of time and energy to the book (one that a colleague had just published; Augustine had read through some of the material in draft form and couldn't help a pleased smile as he noted one of his edits in the printed paragraph), and the vague idea of wandering down to a cafe for a coffee had crossed his mind but had yet to be acted on.

It might have been just like any other day, at least, had a strange old man not appeared in the middle of his office in the space between one breath and the other, the man looking mildly surprised, pleased, and a little stunned all at once.

Augustine let out a yelp, dropping the book, slamming his feet back down to the floor, and nearly falling off the chair in the process. "Sorry, sorry!" he explained hastily as he used the desk to pull himself back upright, shoving his hair out of his eyes and grinning in an apologetic way. "Sorry, you just startled me - my receptionist usually calls up when I have guests -" And then he paused, because the old man was both staring at him, and, he suddenly realised, inexplicably familiar.

"I am sorry if I startled you," he said, and while the words were slow with age, there was something so... familiar about the cadence and rhythm of his speech. "I arrived very suddenly, you see."

"Right," Augustine said, and blinked once. "Yes. Sorry, I didn't hear the elevator chime either...?"

"I didn't take the elevator," the man said gravely, and, because he looked like he was about to keel over, sat down in the folding chair Augustine dragged from the side of the room. "I have things I have to tell you... and they are unbelievable, so I will need to give you my credentials first."

Augustine frowned, glancing automatically at the man's hands, still folded in his lap. "Credentials?" he repeated, not seeing any sort of paper or identification.

"In the third drawer of your desk," the man said, eyes flicking to where it would be, "On the left hand side, there is a locked safety deposit box. The code is 7670531454 - the numbers for Espurr, your first Pokemon, and Garchomp, the first you worked with at the laboratory, scrambled up and with the day you moved into your first apartment slipped in the middle. Most of the things there are pretty typical - the deeds to this building, insurance documents - but there is also a photo."

Not looking at the man any more, Augustine nodded vaguely, staring at the spot where the box rested as if his eyes could bore a hole through the wood. "How do you -" he started, unable to finish, gesturing helplessly for the old man to continue.

"It's of you and Lysandre," the man said, and now he simply sounded... sad. "From the day he was given his doctorate. It's snowing. He has his arm around your waist, he's had a few drinks already and he's almost giddy, feeling like he can change the world, like he can do anything. Your phone - it's before the Holo Caster came out - is in your hand, and you snap the photo. Immediately after that, he brushes your hair out of your eyes and kisses you for the first time, and his mouth tastes like rosé, chocolate cheesecake, and his favourite brand of cigarettes, the ones that went out of business three...? Three years ago - he took it as a sign then to quit smoking. You walk him home after that, and he kisses you again, and then you part ways. You don't want to go any further when he's drunk, despite having wanted to since the moment you first met him, and it takes you a couple of days to talk about it and to decide where to go from there. You put the photo in there when you started having suspicions, when you started wondering - _how far will he go for perfection?_ "

He had taken grip of the desk at some point, unnoticed during the old man's explanation of the photograph that, yes, he knew was in the box. The memories flickered through his mind - the scent of cigarettes, the damp of the snow on his skin. The old man looked similarly lost. "I don't understand how you know this," he said simply, and the man's lips curved in a sad smile.

"I know this because I was the one who put the photo in the box. I was the one who set the code, after two of the most important Pokemon and one of the defining days of my life. I was the one who took the photo and I was the one Lysandre kissed." His eyes closed, and with that gesture, Augustine noticed with a shock that was almost physical that they were the precisely same shade of grey as his own. "Don't you understand yet? I thought I was a bit quicker on the uptake than that!"

Augustine could not bring himself to speak, scrutinising every inch of the main's face. Yes, there was his nose, and there were his cheekbones. A myriad of creases and wrinkles decorated the man's eyes, but he could recognise the ones beneath his eyes that were precisely the same as his own. The hair was grey, verging on white, but even now it was still thick, still curled at the ends. The pattern of stubble was the one he saw in the mirror every day, the lined hands had long fingers and the same bump at the wrist, and - his heart flipped only slightly - how had he not noticed the watch his father had given him as a graduation gift on the old man's left wrist?

"You're - me?" he asked uncertainly, and the man opened familiar grey eyes and grinned.

"Now you've got it!" he exclaimed, and the same touch of the dramatic was there, too. "Yes, and if you're curious, it's been thirty-three years, eight months, and twelve days."

Alright, so it probably wasn't going to be just like every other day. "Why are you here?" he asked slowly, "I assume you travelled back in time to do more than just tell me about a photograph I look at -"

"- almost every day, yes," the man - no, his older self - continued impatiently, his expression falling into familiar deathly seriousness. "Lysandre is making a very big mistake. You must stop him before he makes the same mistake he made in my time. Celebi has promised me that there won't be any paradox in me telling you so you can prevent it - I suspect stopping it would have been the right path all along." He exhaled, then reached for Augustine's Holo Caster, scrolling back through missed messages and switching on earmarked for four minutes earlier, a single minute before the man had arrived.

He listened. And he felt the blood drain out of his face.

"What do I do?" he whispered anxiously, staring up at this future version of himself, but the old man was already moving - collecting Pierre's Pokeball and pressing it in his hand, reaching for a set of keys that he recognised as his own, but with a different key ring and a few more additions.

"You'll need something from the apartment," he said in resignation. "Come up, and I'll explain further."

The moment they arrived, the old man ducked into the kitchen, returning with one of the knives. Augustine's eyes widened a little, glancing between the blade and the old man's face warily - the sudden thought that this could be a trap and the man had lured him up here to kill him had crossed his mind.

"Oh, stop being so paranoid," his older self muttered. "Look - look. I'll tell you what will happen if you don't stop this. Lysandre will leave the activation of the weapon in the hands of one of his henchmen, Xerosic - yes, the greasy man you've seen at a few functions, he's working for Lysandre. He will come here and leave a folder with his full confession and a lift key, but it'll be too late by then - he'll leave for Geosenge Town, where the weapon has emerged, straight afterwards. And then..." He drew in a breath. "And then, the children will defeat him, the kids you gave the Pokedex and starters to. It'll be Xandra who does it. Lysandre will..."

His hand, the one not around the handle of the knife, curled into a ball. "He will snap," he whispered. "He will bring the machine down on himself. And in doing so, he'll make himself - and Xandra, Shauna, and Yves - immortal. You will go to Geosenge with Pierre and Pierre will teleport him out of the rubble, and then they will have thirty-three years of suffering, of being caught in suspended animation as the world around them changes and they do not. You _must_ ensure that the weapon is not activated."

And then he let out his breath, offering the knife to Augustine, handle first.

"What do you expect me to do with this?" Augustine asked, his voice shaking as much as his hand as he reached out to take it. "Am I supposed to kill him?"

The smile on the aged face was almost anguished. "No. You're meant to save him. If he had managed to activate the weapon as he planned, then you would die too. A few days after all of..." He waved a hand. "All of that, I wrapped his hands around the knife and held the blade to my throat. And I asked him a question - could he do it? We are not perfect or young or unchanging, and we were not what Lysandre's perfect world was to be about. I asked him, 'Could you do it?'. And he said, 'I could not'. Ask him. And he will see what he is doing, that his success will be our death."

He glanced up at the clock, and his breath caught. "He may have already fought Xandra for the first time by now," he added urgently, "He has already stated his intentions, and Celebi has chosen a time where this has already happened, but now he's perilously close to making an irreversible mistake. Get to the cafe - there's an entire base there, hidden beneath it. Call Sina and Dexio - tell them to get over there themselves now, there's a machine there that lets them view Holo Caster transmissions, their job is to destroy it. You have only twenty-eight minutes to take the elevator down two levels - if you don't have the pass, use Pierre. Keep the news channel open on your Holo Caster. If they announce a strange object emerging in Geosenge..." He grimaced. "Then it's already probably too late."

"Call Sina and Dexio," he repeated quickly, "Tell them to get to the secret base hidden beneath Lysandre's cafe. Be down there myself in twenty-eight - sorry, twenty-seven minutes. Try to stop him from destroying the world. Offer him the opportunity to kill me in cold blood." His voice shook. "Right. Easy enough, I suppose. What will happen to you?"

"To me?" the old man repeated thoughtfully, "I suppose... if you prevent the future that I come from... I'll just fade away." He smiled weakly, and Augustine could recognise his own fear in that smile. "But then a new future will replace it - and it'll be better." Compulsively, he reached forward, catching his younger self's own hand. "Please save Lys for me," he said sincerely. "For everyone's sake."

Augustine nodded once, gazing at the hand on his own. "I will," he vowed, and turned and hurried away.


	25. Judgment

**Chapter 24 - Judgment**

AZ was a three-thousand-year-old immortal who had brought a Pokemon back from the dead and then had destroyed the world once, and now Lysandre wanted to do it again.

In general, that was a lot to take in.

Practically tripping in the direction Lysandre had gone, Luc and Renard's Pokeballs clenched so tightly in her hands her knuckles were going white, Xandra found herself with the rather undignified chore of... waiting for the elevator. He had gone ahead of her, then? Still, no sooner than it arrived and she had stepped in did the door slide shut again, carrying her effortlessly down another level.

When she stepped outside, it was to another corridor, this one smaller and shorter but with a few steps leading upwards in a new direction. They had to be under the main part of the lab that she had seen earlier, she reasoned as she cautiously approached, pausing as the cement tiles changed into glowing glass, solid grey banks on either side, alight with red lights.

Lysandre was there, hurriedly feeding instructions to an alarmingly pale man in red, goggles pressed to his face and a shock of unnaturally red hair sticking up.

"So the Pokeballs we received and the Pokemon we've gathered are where they need to be," the pale man was explaining to Lysandre, an unbearable smugness on his face. "Add it all up, and it means all preparations are complete!"

Lysandre nodded once, looking the picture of sanity compared to the other man. "The only thing left to do is put the plan in motion. I'm counting on you," he said calmly, a faint smile on his face. And then he paused, head turning as he caught sight of Xandra, giving her a nod of acknowledgement. "Ah. Xandra."

She took a few steps forward, trying not to show her legs shaking or how white her knuckles were, clenched around the Pokeballs. "Lysandre," she said back evenly, turning to stare at the other man questioningly.

Not bothering to respond to that, Lysandre gestured to the side, where a wide screen monitor was fixed to the wall. Beneath it were two charcoal grey boxes, one with a large red button on it, one with a large blue one.

A large red button? It was almost comical how stereotypical it was.

"One push of a button," he said, "And we can activate the ultimate weapon from this room."

Oh. That probably wasn't good.

Lysandre strode a few steps forward, peering at Xandra in something almost resembling fascination. "I believe being a chosen one means you have the potential to change the future," he told her, and Xandra found herself recalling Professor Sycamore describing Lysandre as 'truly a chosen one', himself. "Whether we activate the ultimate weapon or leave it safely underground will rest upon if you actually have this potential or not."

"So no pressure, then?" Xandra almost squeaked, staring at the two buttons that most likely meant activation or suspension as he passed her. "Lysandre, what the fu-"

And then she stopped, having spun around to force Lysandre to answer her and finding that he had already stopped short. At the door, one hand clutching the frame and partially bent over to try to catch his breath, was Professor Augustine Sycamore, clear anguish on his face and a cautious-looking Kirlia lurking behind him.

"Lysandre," he said, in a tone very different to Xandra's, "Please..."

The shock was rapidly fading from Lysandre's face, replaced by something closed-off and hard. "You shouldn't be here," he said grimly, although he made no move to approach either the Professor or the door. Xandra could see his hands shaking. "You should - go home -"

Lysandre had promised to destroy everyone who wasn't in Team Flare, and unless she was very much mistaken, Xandra was pretty sure that included the Professor. If the darkness in Lysandre's eyes or the hurt in the Professor's was any indication, they both knew it too.

"No," Professor Sycamore whispered, straightening up (had he run all the way here?) and taking a few cautious steps forward. "Lysandre, please. You're going to make a very big mistake."

"What would be a mistake," Lysandre answered, although there was a note of uncertainty that Xandra had not heard before in his voice, "Would be to abandon my goals now. Would you rather see the world collapse into ruin?"

"If you don't abandon your _goals_ , then I won't be seeing anything!" he shot back, and although there was still horror and terror in his expression, the Professor seemed to have found his resolve. "Lysandre, I know you, just _think_ about it. What possible good would there be for you to end everything? What kind of a world would it be with just..." He flung a hand towards the pasty man, who had barely moved since Professor Sycamore's arrival. "People like _them_ around? Would you really rather entrust the world to rich idiots who paid their way in, instead of dedicated, passionate people who want to make it right? Who do you _really_ think is making the world ugly?"

Lysandre did not answer, simply staring at Professor Sycamore as he caught his breath.

"Lysandre," he repeated, more softly, "What about your Pokemon? Would you abandon Incendie because he eats too much? What about Espoir, what room for him is there in your new world? If you destroy all living beings other than those in Team Flare, would you rather see them starve to death? Or will you just discard them too, like everyone else who doesn't fit into your perfect world?"

And there was distinct bitterness in his voice, mixed in with grief and desperation, and Lysandre's blue eyes were becoming clouded and damp, stubbornness fighting with uncertainty.

Xandra could not breathe, watching this silent war.

"Would you discard me?" the Professor asked forlornly, and Xandra sucked in a breath as he dropped to his knees in front of Lysandre, drawing out a knife, pressing the handle into Lysandre's hand, both of his own hands wrapped around them loosely as he dragged the blade to his own throat. "If you insist on carrying out... all this, then I will turn around and go die in the street with everyone else, because I am not perfect and I am not young and I am not unchanging and I am not beautiful and I do _not_ belong or _want_ to belong in this world you want. But before I go, I want to know something."

The desperation in his eyes was gone now, even with Lysandre's shaking hand holding a very sharp knife to his throat, replaced by some acceptance - even approaching serenity. "I want to know if you truly know what you'll be doing by continuing with your plan. I need to know that you accept everything that'll come from it. If you're going to kill me, then do you at least have the strength of your convictions to kill me in person, instead of letting me die with the rest of the world?"

Empires could have risen and fallen in the time it took to breath in once and breathe out again. And then the knife fell with a clatter.

Lysandre crumpled to his knees, the knife spinning aside harmlessly to bounce off one of the banks lining the walkway. Xandra bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood as he clung to Professor Sycamore, shaking with silent sobs, head bowed as the full horror of his plan sank in. The Professor smiled, relieved and grieved all at once, then wrapped his arms around him and pressed a kiss into the fiery red hair.

Almost feeling like she was seeing something she wasn't meant to be seeing, Xandra turned away, feeling half guilty about it. The pasty man caught her eye and then shrugged in an almost exasperated manner, punching something into a remote control, sending most of the banks dark.

"Cut the power," he said, his voice alarmingly loud in comparison to Lysandre's almost silent weeping. "I guess we're not activating the weapon unless we're digging it out with a shovel."

Drawing in a breath that still shook terribly, Lysandre slowly drew back from the Professor, his face a blotchy mess but his expression far more peaceful than Xandra had ever seen it. "Good," he said calmly, only the faintest tremor belying his lack of true calm. Reaching for his Holo Caster, he hesitated, switched it to audio only and said clearly, "Attention all personnel, this is Lysandre. This is an evacuation order for the Lumiose base - please convene in the courtyard behind the cafe. Please change out of your uniforms and into your street clothes, take your valuables, and leave anything that would incriminate you behind. Bryony, please take attendance." Switching it off, he turned to the pasty man. "You too, Xerosic."

"Right," said Xerosic in some exasperation, shaking his head and muttering about lost opportunities as he hurried out.

"What did you do?" Xandra asked cautiously. "And what about Sina and Dexio?"

"I'll take care of them," the Professor muttered.

Lysandre turned to her, looking almost as if he had forgotten she was there. "I ordered everyone to evacuate. Once they are all out, I will trigger the self-destruct mechanism and flood the entire laboratory with liquid cement, and then order the same for the weapon site. I..." He looked almost hesitant, shaking his head. "I can't."

Switching off his own Holo Caster after sending a message of his own to Sina and Dexio, Professor Sycamore gave him a gentle smile, rubbing a soothing pattern between his shoulder blades. "I'm glad. Thank you," he murmured, pressing a light kiss against Lysandre's lips; Xandra flushed and turned away, definitely no longer mistaken about the nature of their relationship.

"We should go." Lysandre had straightened up fully now, brushing his suit off, calm and in control again after the brief... whatever that had been. "Once I have ensured that all of my staff are safe, I will begin the sequence, and..." And here, he looked far more uncertain, "And turn myself in. Given the very public message I sent out, I can hardly expect to escape without punishment, can I?" He let out a shaky laugh, and the Professor tightened his arm around Lysandre's shoulder.

Feeling torn, Xandra nodded, clipping her Pokeballs back on her belt, following the two men back to the elevator. In the upper level, all was silent aside from murmuring coming from the back of the room, where people were tromping their way up a stair case into what looked like sunlight.

"Augustine," Lysandre said quietly, catching his shoulders, "You should have your Kirlia teleport you and the girl out. If you're seen with us, you may be arrested for collusion." The Professor made a sound of protest, and Lysandre pressed on - "I do not know what will happen next. I've done some terrible things - someone will have to be answerable for it. As soon as you're out, I'll give the order for them to evacuate the Geosenge base and allow you to move freely, and..."

Turning to Xandra, he pressed a small remote control into her hand. "In the Geosenge base is likely to be a very unhappy legendary Pokemon. Please free Xerneas, and then punch in the code 12102013. That will flood the base as well."

Xandra opened her mouth once, closed it again, and nodded.

"Pierre, if you could drop Xandra off now," Professor Sycamore said quietly to the Kirlia, "I want to speak with Lysandre before..."

He trailed off, and, diplomatically, the Kirlia nodded once. And then he turned to Xandra, offering her a small hand - she took it, and then the world was being whisked away, Lysandre and Sycamore no longer in sight, the Flare base in Lumiose City long gone and the stones of Geosenge rising before her...

 

She freed the legendary Pokemon Xerneas.

She flooded the base, walking through ranks of former Team Flare members with a face like stone.

She caught up with the others, explaining exactly what had happened down in Lumiose City, how Professor Sycamore had talked Lysandre out of giving in to his plans, listening with curiosity about how Sina and Dexio had deactivated the machine used to collect information broadcast over the Holo Caster before high-tailing it out of there.

And then the world continued.

Lysandre was arrested, and a good handful of members of Team Flare as well. Others had scattered, and she found herself watching closely for hints of red, to see who had escaped punishment. She had seen Professor Sycamore once, a handful of days later - they had met up in Couriway, and he had solemnly explained what would happen to Lysandre now.

She continued with her journey, making her way to Snowbelle City to collect the eighth gym badge. And from there, she moved on - first Victory Road, then to the Pokemon League itself.

She defeated the champion, and accepted a role in Shalour Gym, familiarising herself with the Pokemon at a myriad of levels she would be fighting side by side with.

She found an immortal giant waiting for her outside the Pokemon league. She battled him, and she witnessed a reunion three thousand years in the making.

She returned home to her mother.

And then Xandra changed into her pyjamas, curled up with her Pokemon, and drifted off into a well-earned and peaceful sleep.


	26. Hold Hands

**Epilogue - Hold Hands**

_Five years later_

It had become a well-rehearsed routine.

Augustine would approach the gates and show his identity, being allowed to pass and heading for the visitor's parking. He would go to the front desk to sign in. He would go through security - no Pokemon, no sharp objects, no metal of any kind, no cigarettes, no drugs of any sort, no electronics, no food or drinks (aside from those purchased in the on-site shop), no glass, nothing that could be used for harm - concluding by stepping through a metal detector. He would get a name tag with the date and his relationship to the person he was visiting - 'friend', coached in careful euphemism. And then one of the staff members would lead him to the visitor's area through a myriad of locked doors, where they would be supervised for the entirety of the visit.

High-security psychiatric hospitals did tend to be a little on the restrictive side.

Still, today was different, and Augustine carried with him a bag with a set of clothes, actual shoes (slip-ons - shoelaces were not allowed on the grounds), and, having been carefully screened, a large silver ring with an iridescent stone, a curl of black visible within its depths. He was smiling, genuinely pleased, and the clear blue sky above seemed to know precisely what would happen on that day.

Five years earlier, when he had talked Lysandre out of making the biggest mistake of his life, the end result had been Lysandre taken into custody, along with a good chunk of Team Flare with them. But, at least, he hadn't been automatically thrown in jail and the key thrown away - while he had spent several nights in custody, they had recognised that what he needed the most wasn't imprisonment, it was help. Augustine had given testimony; so had Xandra, fresh from the Pokemon League - both had been asked if they thought psychiatric care was the best option, and they had both agreed. And Lysandre had, to his credit, the fact that he had willingly stepped down and turned himself in, the recognition that his plans had not been something he would have done in his right mind.

He had pleaded guilty to threatening a terrorist act, yes. And yet he had been judged guilty but insane, and that had meant a hospital and not prison.

They had had a hurried conversation a handful of hours after his sentencing, an orderly from the hospital pretending not to listen, before he had been sent off - he would be getting help there, it was not going to be forever, and Augustine would be visiting as much as he possibly could.

It was a quiet, withdrawn Lysandre who had willingly gone with them to the hospital in the Kalosian countryside, looking strangely diminished in nearly every aspect from his body language to his hair (he had not been given hair gel while in custody, and it would be a while before he got any more again). And Augustine had watched him go, and then had returned to his life.

Now, though, the regular visits would come to an end. Now, Lysandre would be coming home with him.

A hug was nothing out of the ordinary, and that was precisely how Augustine greeted him in the visitor's area, stepping back to observe Lysandre. He was far more visibly calm, his eyes clear, his movements fluid and relaxed. He no longer held himself so tightly that his hands would tremble - there was no darkness in his eyes. There was tiredness there, yes - some wariness about what was to come next - but the frightening fanaticism was utterly gone.

"Well!" he said, and Lysandre chuckled a little.

"It's going to be strange," Lysandre admitted, peering into the bag, "Leaving here - five years is a long time."

"It is," Augustine conceded, brushing his hand against Lysandre's carelessly. "But they do say you're ready - and the house is ready and waiting for you." He smiled suddenly, and added, "And so are your Pokemon."

Lumiose City was becoming increasingly busy and crowded, and the two of them had decided - together - that maybe somewhere quieter would be more beneficial. And so Augustine had bought a small house - with a rather large pond, enough size for a Gyarados - in the countryside, twenty minutes outside of Kiloude City. Kiloude was of a decent enough size, and Lysandre had tentative plans to open another cafe there (for whatever the reason he had used the one in Lumiose, he did enjoy cooking) if he did not return to the sciences. It also had the TMV line - a direct line back to Lumiose City and enough for Augustine to commute three days a week to the laboratories there.

For the rest of the time... well, there was always the Holo Caster.

It took perhaps another hour for everything for Lysandre's checking out to be completed, his belongings gathered together (he had taken up painting while in the hospital, apparently), the papers signed. One of his doctors had gone over the medications he was to take and the follow-up appointments (as an outpatient, now) he was to attend, and then she stamped the paper, signed him off digitally, and they were free to leave.

An involuntary smile crossed Augustine's lips when Lysandre emerged from a side room dressed in proper clothing. Now, with his hair tied back and wearing fitted clothing instead of loose hospital garb, he looked more like himself, and the Mega Ring glinted on his hand. "You look good," he said, giving him an appreciative look-over.

"It's _blue_ ," Lysandre said in response, tugging at his shirt and looking vaguely put out.

"It matches your eyes," Augustine pointed out, and a reluctant smile tugged at Lysandre's lips.

There was quiet as they approached the car - not an awkward silence, but peace, and Augustine found himself humming an old song under his breath as he opened the passenger door for Lysandre. Once he was seated, he turned, leaning in to brush a single kiss across Lysandre's lips, a gesture he had found himself unable to do for longer than he cared to think about, and was rewarded with Lysandre's gentle contentment. "I've missed you," he sighed, and Lysandre nodded, reaching for his hand.

"I have missed you too. At times, the thought of your visits were what kept me going," he admitted, leaning in for another careful kiss.

It probably wasn't the best place for this sort of reunion, in the parking lot of a high-security psychiatric hospital, and Augustine found himself guiltily anticipating what would happen when they arrived back at the house.

The drive was long, but they kept themselves amused - music at times, soft speech at others, an easy quiet at yet other times. When they did talk, Augustine got Lysandre caught up on what had been happening in the world around them - a few new scientific advances, some environmental policies that would hopefully please him, news on the former members of Team Flare, those still in prison (there had been those who most certainly _had_ intended to cause harm), those in psychiatric care themselves, or those who were now free. He told them about Xandra's activities - she was finishing her time in Shalour Gym (especially since, she admitted, she was getting sick and tired of bruises every time she was knocked off her skates) and was about to go to university, and if Lysandre felt up to it, would possibly be visiting them in Kiloude City some time in the near future.

Now, though, Augustine was pulling up outside a small house. And then he was stepping out of the car, hurrying around to open Lysandre's door, offering his hand as Lysandre gazed up at it. "Well," he said, smiling, "We're home."

It was little, yes. But it was also in good condition, had gardens with a decent amount of flowers and some fresh herbs, and had a decent-sized pond out the back for Espoir. It was private and it was quiet, and it would be superb both as a retreat and as a home.

Lysandre's hand still in his own, he shouldered his bag then started for the front door, moving slowly to allow him to study the little garden, encouraged by the pleased sound he made when he saw the herbs. "Here we are!" he announced and flung open the door, leading him into a short corridor with a living room on one side and an expansive kitchen and dining room on the other. "At the back is the bathroom - just the one, I'm afraid - and the bedrooms. There are two - you could..." He hesitated, knowing his uncertainty showed on his face, not completely sure where things stood after five years. "You could have your own room, if you wanted - or keep it as a study - it's your choice."

Turning back from where he had been studying the living room, Lysandre tugged Augustine closer using their still-joined hands, answering him with a kiss that almost left him light-headed. "I think a study will suffice," he murmured, and a grin flitted across his face.

Suddenly feeling rather warm, Augustine grinned back in response. "Excellent! Well, I think we should be starting dinner."

Lysandre rose his eyebrows. "But it is only half past four in the afternoon."

"I know," he said placidly, "But we have a lot to catch up on, and I find it's best to do that on a full stomach. Or," he conceded, "We could wait until later, and just choose something to eat later at our leisure. After all..."

"After all...?" Lysandre prompted as he rose an eyebrow, and Augustine shrugged fluidly.

How could he put it into words, really? How could he verbalise the last few years, the years they had spent before that, the journey they had taken? The man standing before him was not the one who had crumpled before him five years earlier, was not even the idealistic young man who had swept into his office requiring mentoring for his doctorat, wanting to heal the ills of the world.

He would learn to heal those ills in time, as he would learn to heal himself.

"After all, Lys," Augustine said quietly, but there was true joy in his voice as a smile crossed his face, "We have our whole future ahead of us, don't we?"

And he turned to the kitchen, ready to start changing the world with tea.

**The End ******


End file.
